Janoah burst into a derisive shout.
"Oh, my eye!" he exclaimed. "So that's the way you do it, eh? Don't talk to me of motor-boats! A good old-fashioned skiff with a leg-o'-mutton sail in her is good enough fur me. How 'bout you, Willie?"
No reply was forthcoming.
"I say, Willie," repeated Jan in a louder tone, "that these new fangled motor-boats, with their noise an' their smell, ain't no match fur a good clean dory."
Willie came out of his trance just in time to catch the final clause of the sentence.
"Who ever saw a clean dory in Wilton?"
Jan faltered, abashed.
"Well, anyhow," he persisted, "in my opinion, clean or not, a straight wholesome smell of cod ain't to be mentioned in the same breath with a mix-up of stale fish an' gasoline."
Zenas Henry bridled.
"You don't buy a motor-boat to smell of," he said tartly. "You seem to forget it's to sail in."