“All right. You better hurry, ’cause there’s goin’ to be a bit of a blow toward night. You go along with him an’ he’ll sail you across.”
“Thank you,” answered Bob. “Shall I pay you now?”
“Not till you gets the goods, sir,” was the answer. “When you gets to Peconic landing you give the money to Will; an’ tell him not to lose it; though I rather guess he will, just the same.”
They started out, but the fisherman called them back.
“How much were you going to give him?” he asked.
Bob sighed despairingly.
“Five dollars. That was the agreement.”
“Don’t you do it. Give him three; that’s all it’s worth.”
“Oh, I understood you to say——”
“I said three or maybe four. Well, it’s three. That suit you?”