"I've got enough money saved to buy a boat," said Alec, "unless it costs too much. Would you be willing to help me buy it?"
"Certainly."
They found just the boat Alec wanted. It was long, wide, and flat bottomed with square ends and very high sides. It would hold at least fifty bushels of shells when full.
"What do you want such a big boat for?" demanded the shipper.
"Because I'll need it," said Alec. "While I am taking your shells away, I might just as well get some more, too. I'm sure some of the other shippers will give me their shells if I guarantee their removal every day. There's one thing still puzzling me, though. Where am I to dump the shells after I have collected them?"
"I'll fix that," said the shipper. "Old Si Newcomb owns the land along the river below the sheds. It's just the place you want. He'll let you put your shells there if I ask him."
"Thank you," said Alec. "Now I'll take my boat and get your shells."
"I'll ride back with you," said the shipper.
Alec took the sculling oar and shoved off. But when he tried to propel the boat as he had seen men doing, his oar flew out of water and he could not budge his craft.
The shipper laughed. "I thought you might find yourself in trouble. It seems there are still some things an old-timer can teach the young fry. Give me that oar."