The tourist stopped short and glared fiercely.
"Sir," said he, "damn your bear!" Then he strode on, leaving grandpa staring after him.
In the course of the morning we became quite well acquainted, and he resigned. The son appeared to take somewhat the humorous view all through the affair, which must have irritated the old gentleman. They discussed it rather thoroughly, and finally decided to retrace their steps for a fresh start over a better-known route. This settled, the senior seemed to feel relieved of a weight. He even saw and relished certain funny phases of the incident, though he never ceased to foretell different kinds of trouble for the company, varying in range from mere complaints to the most tremendous of damage suits.
He was much interested, finally, in our methods of travel, and then, in logical sequence, with what he could see about him. He watched curiously my loading of the canoe, for I had a three-mile stretch of open water, and the wind was abroad. Deuce's empirical boat wisdom aroused his admiration. He and his son were both at the shore to see me off.
Deuce settled himself in the bottom. I lifted the stern from the shore and gently set it afloat. In a moment I was ready to start.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" suddenly cried the father.
I swirled my paddle back. The old gentleman was hastily fumbling in his pockets. After an instant he descended to the water's edge.
"Here," said he, "you are a judge of fiction; take this."
It was his steamboat and railway folder.