“Or maybe four,” continued the other as though Bob had not spoken. Bob glanced doubtfully at the others, who nodded.
“We’ll pay four, although it seems a good deal.”
“Southold, you said?” asked the fisherman.
“No, Peconic.”
“Oh, Peconic, eh?” He shook his head sorrowfully. “Now, that’s different bait. You see, the wind’s sorter bad for a trip over to Peconic.”
“We’ll risk the wind,” answered Nelson.
“Yes, but it’s gettin’ to look pret-ty squally, an’ I don’t b’lieve I’d want to risk the boat.”
There was a whispered consultation, and finally Bob said: “Now, look here, we’ve got to get across, and you might as well take us as anyone else. We’ll pay you five dollars.”
“I couldn’t go myself,” answered the man. “But my boy here can go if he wants to. Want to take these gentlemen across, Will?”
The boy, his mouth still open, nodded silently.