Chapter 41

           THEdoctorwasanoldman;averynice,kind-lookingoldmanwhenIgothimup.ItoldhimmeandmybrotherwasoveronSpanishIslandhuntingyesterdayafternoon,andcampedonapieceofaraftwefound,andaboutmidnighthemustakickedhisguninhisdreams,foritwentoffandshothimintheleg,andwewantedhimtogooverthereandfixitandnotsaynothingaboutit,norletanybodyknow,becausewewantedtocomehomethiseveningandsurprisethefolks.

           "Whoisyourfolks?"hesays.

           "ThePhelpses,downyonder."

           "Oh,"hesays.Andafteraminute,hesays:

           "How’dyousayhegotshot?"

           "Hehadadream,"Isays,"anditshothim."

           "Singulardream,"hesays.

           Sohelituphislantern,andgothissaddle-bags,andwestarted.Butwhenheseesthecanoehedidn’tlikethelookofhersaidshewasbigenoughforone,butdidn’tlookprettysafefortwo.Isays:

           "Oh,youneedn’tbeafeard,sir,shecarriedthethreeofuseasyenough."

           "Whatthree?"

           "Why,meandSid,andandandTHEGUNS;that’swhatImean."

           "Oh,"hesays.

           Butheputhisfootonthegunnelandrockedher,andshookhishead,andsaidhereckonedhe’dlookaroundforabiggerone.

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