“Salutations,” he called.
“Mornin’,” responded the farmer. A silence followed.
“Want to see us, did you?” asked Chub, cheerfully.
“Ye-es,” drawled the farmer, “I wanted to have a few words with ye.”
“We are deeply honored, sir. Tell the gentleman how deeply honored we are, Roy.” But Roy only growled. The farmer sniffed.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“We’re coming aboard,” replied Chub, making ready to leap the yard of water that intervened between shore and boat.
“You just stay where you are,” said the farmer, patting his gun stock significantly.
“But that’s our boat!” cried Roy, wrathfully.