So, while the girls looked at the rowboat wishfully, and wondered if they couldn’t get enough fish for supper if they had some tackle, the old man adjusted his spectacles, pulled an old envelope out of his pocket, and wrote on it laboriously.
“Do you mind if I read it?” asked Winona, when he was done and had handed it to her.
“Seein’s that’s what it’s for, I dunno’s I do,” he grunted, grinning pleasantly. Winona and Adelaide took each a corner, and read as follows:
For sale, one rowboat in good condition, with oars. No reasonable offer refused. Apply to John Sloane, R. F. D. 3, village.
They looked at each other, then at the boat. Then both girls exclaimed with one impulse, “Is it this boat?”
“This very rowboat,” said Mr. Sloane, eying it with affection. “I don’t use it no more. I’ve got a motor-boat, and them Boy Scouts up the river has got a fine young flock of canoes, so they ain’t likely to want to hire it. Anyway, she ain’t so young as she was. Good boat, though!”
“And what would you call a reasonable offer?” inquired Winona. “The reason I want to know is that I have just six dollars, and if I could buy a rowboat that way I would.”
“Six dollars, hey?” said Mr. Sloane slowly. “That ain’t much for a good boat.”
“It’s all I have to spend on rowboats,” said Winona placidly.
“We-el,” decided Mr. Sloane, “guess I might’s well let you have it!”