“Giving it away! S’death, man, I have a dozen horses, and you may have the best of them for seventy-five guilders.”
“I’ll take a look into your stable before I go away,” said Boston. “In the mean time, I’ve got something I want you to look at.” He tumbled over the wares and took out a pair of heavy spurs. “Now look at that,” he cried, in a tone of exultant admiration. “Did you ever, in your born days, see sech a pair of spurs as that? No you didn’t, so you needn’t say it. I don’t say that they are the best pair of spurs in the Colonies, but I put it to you, squire, can you put your finger upon a pair as good, anywhere? If you can, I should be proud to know it.”
Van Curter took up the spurs and looked at them closely.
“Now tell me,” said he, “where is the cheat in this pair of spurs. I take it for granted that there is such a thing about it, since a Yankee brought them. Is it in the price, or in the articles themselves?”
“Oh, as to that,” replied Boston, with an air of injured innocence, “I don’t say any thing. You will have it that there is a cheat in every thing I offer for sale; but, if there is one there, you can’t find it.”
Van Curter laughed again.
“Come now,” he said, “I am willing to take the spurs, and at your price, too, if you will tell me just where the cheat is to be?”
“You will take them any way?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll tell you; or, rather, it won’t be necessary to tell you any more than the price.”