“I was wondering if there was a canoe we could hire around here.”
“Thar is not, but it’s meself as has one thot ye’re welcome to.”
“That’s very kind—” Bob began but the old man interrupted.
“Tut, tut me bye, it’s welcome I said ye was.”
After a few minutes during which the old man told much the same story concerning the camp as the forester had related, with the exception that he made it plain that he did not believe in ghosts, he led the way down around the end of the dam to a small boat house.
“Thar ye be,” he said as he threw open the door. “An’ it’s a good one.”
“We’ll be very careful of it and bring it back this afternoon,” Bob assured him.
“Not a bit uv it. Iny time widin a week’ll do. I don’t use it once in a dog’s age.”
“Would you mind if we leave our wheels here in the boat house?” Bob asked.
“Niver a bit.”