“You want to eat a good breakfast, then, because you won't have no appetite for dinner.”
The men roared, with encouraging calls. The riverman put on a ludicrous appearance of offended dignity.
“Oh, you needn't swell up like a poisoned pup!” cried old Jackson plaintively, ceasing his attacks from sheer weariness. “You know you're as safe as a cow tied to a brick wall behind that table.”
Thorpe seized the opportunity to approach.
“Hello, Jackson,” said he.
The old man peered at him out of the blur of his excitement.
“Don't you know me?” inquired Thorpe.
“Them lamps gives 'bout as much light as a piece of chalk,” complained Jackson testily. “Knows you? You bet I do! How are you, Harry? Where you been keepin' yourself? You look 'bout as fat as a stall-fed knittin' needle.”
“I've been landlooking in the upper peninsula,” explained Thorpe, “on the Ossawinamakee, up in the Marquette country.”
“Sho'” commented Jackson in wonder, “way up there where the moon changes!”