"Lumber cordelled by keelboat from New Orleans?" I rallied him in smiling irony.
He looked me up and down with a speculative eye.
"We-ell, stranger, I might knock off ten dollars."
"You mean fifty."
Again he surveyed me; then appraised the rich broadcloth of my companion.
"Be ye buyin' fer him?" he queried.
"We make the trip together. I can go as high as a hundred and twenty-five. We could do better at Pittsburg, but are willing to give you the bargain, to save our boots."
He looked again from my mud-smeared buckskins to the señor's fine apparel, and smiled sourly. "Ye'll git no such boat at the price, here or at Pittsburg, if ye wait till the next freeze. One fifty is my best offer. Take it or leave it."
"Skiff, kedge, sweeps, poles, and steer-oar included," I stipulated.
He assented, with well-feigned reluctance: "As she stands—lock, stock, and barrel."