We jogged on
quietly--and seemed to be going at a good rate.
"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who was
looking on at the game.
"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it's
cottonwood, and most of it green at that."
"Well, Thompson--(Three aces again, stranger--I'll take that X and the
small change, if you please. It's your deal)--Thompson, I say, we'd
better take three or four cords at the next woodyard--it can't be more
than six miles from here--(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Hand
over those V's.)."
The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it was
reported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the light
being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty.
"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords if it's good--see to it,
Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now--it's getting right warm!
This pilot's beating us all to smash."
The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat
vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the
last woodyard--_three and a quarter_; but soon again became interested
in the game.
Pages:
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285