"Who's a-comin'?" asked a broad shouldered Green Mountaineer. The very thought of a man paddling down the river seemed to suggest some scheme of the fakir or dodge of the showman to separate him from the coins that jingled in his pocket. The old Vermonter, turning a quid of sassafras from one corner of his mouth to the other, drawled, with all impressiveness of a judge to whom some knotty law point had been presented: "Wall, I wunder what he gits out'n this? He mus' be a darned critter tew resk himself in thet ere fashion; an' I swan whar th' profit comes in is agin me tew tell."
The Vermonter's inability to understand what Boyton was going to get out of such a trip, appeared to be the subject about which most of the people along the Connecticut were puzzling their brains. They would invariably ask: "How dew yeou make it pay?" "Ain't yeou cold?" Many of them would not respond when asked for information regarding the currents and rough passages; but would permit him to paddle along uninstructed in order that they "might have the full benefit of the show."
After cutting his dress he became chilled by the inflow of cold water and was helplessly numb. A little stimulant would have done him a world of good; but he could neither beg, buy nor borrow anything from the spectators. When he reached Lower Waterford Bridge, his agent met him with supplies, and there he stopped to repair his dress. He was only about midway of the Fifteen Mile Falls. The suit was injured in the first pitch and the accident might have been averted had any one in the large crowd that watched him start in, given him information. As he approached, he asked the onlookers where the channel of the river was. They stared at him and on the question being repeated, looked at one another and put their eyes on the river again. Almost immediately the current swept Boyton toward the rocks.
Off Morris' place, Paul hailed a fellow in a turnip patch and as he cautiously approached the river, the Captain removed the cover from an air-tight jar suspended from his neck, took out a cigar and holding a match in the rubber tube of his dress, lit the weed. The rustic removed his hat, closed an eye and scratched his head in great perplexity.
"Wall, I swaw," he ejaculated, "ef yeou hadn't spoke er I'd er taken yeou fur th' devil an' swore yeou that ere durned cigar Wuth th' end o' yer tail, I wud, b'gosh. But ain't yer cold?"
Valley Hotel was the name of the tavern at which Paul and his party put up for the night at Lower Waterford. How long before Boyton's visit the last guest had registered there is problematical, but the landlady proved hospitable. During the evening, her sitting room, which Boyton and his party occupied, reviewing the incidents of the voyage, was overrun with fellows who stalked in and looked at "the show" just as if it was a menagerie of wild beasts into which they had free admission. They gathered at the country store opposite and poured across the street, in sixes and sevens, like so many reliefs on army duty. A gang would enter the sitting room occupying the chairs and sofa, look on with open mouths for ten or fifteen minutes and listen to what must have been enigmatical to them; then looking one at the other, the entire party would rise together, stalk back to the store, where they would relate their experience to others, who in turn would brace up and make a descent on the lion of the hour. They did not rap for admittance, did not remove their hats on entering, did not wait to be asked to take a seat, did not say a word to anybody while present, did not say "good evening" when they went out—in fact did nothing but stare in the most ignorant and saucy manner. An excuse may be made for there in the fact that Waterford is isolated from civilization, there being neither railroad nor telegraph communication with the outside world and few newspapers are ever seen to say nothing of being read. Paul bore the inspection good naturedly and joked pleasantly as each "relief" went out.
Just before starting in the morning, an old gentleman met Boyton on the porch in front of the hotel and expressed real pleasure at meeting him—in fact, claimed close acquaintanceship. The Captain was glad to meet an old friend and was inquisitive enough to ask where they had seen each other before.
"Wall," the old fellow answered, "yeou remember w'en yeou crossed th'
English channel?"
"Yes," Boyton remembered it.
"An' that ere rubber suit you wore?"