“I don’t see why. It would be a—a public accommodation!”
“I can find out. Anyway, they couldn’t ask much, I guess.”
“If I were you I’d change the name of your launch, though,” Arnold advised. “Ladies might feel sort of—of nervous about going in a boat with a name like that.”
“What would you call her?” asked Toby, dubiously. “Changing the name might change the luck, and my luck’s been pretty good lately.”
“I don’t know. You could find another name all right. Say, Toby, why couldn’t I come in on it? I wouldn’t want any of the money, of course, but we could use the Frolic any time we had a lot of passengers. Would you mind if I helped?”
“No, I’d be awfully glad to have you, only—do you think your father would want you to?”
“He wouldn’t mind. I’ll ask him tonight. I could bring this boat over in the morning and then we could use whichever one we wanted to. Maybe if there were ladies going over they’d rather go in the Frolic.”
“I guess maybe they would,” laughed Toby. “But there wouldn’t be many ladies, probably. I suppose if I took other folks over to Johnstown for fifty cents I couldn’t ask Mr. Whitney to pay any more, could I?”
“Why not? He made a bargain with you, didn’t he? If you got a dollar and a half from him, besides what you made from other people——”