THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
"Don't say! How'd you come to leave them? Couldn't have done it myself, by the great Sam! Open timber?"
"Well," replied Ranald, slowly, "on the east of the Bass River—"
"All that north country, Colonel," said Mr. St. Clair, "is pretty much the same, I imagine; a little of all kinds."
"Much water, streams, and such?"
"Yes, on the west side of the Bass there is plenty of water, a number of small streams and lakes, but—"
"Oh, all through that north country, Colonel, you are safe in having a canoe in your outfit," said Mr. St. Clair, again interrupting Ranald.
"Lots of water, eh? Just like Maine, ha, ha!" The colonel's quiet chuckle was good to hear.
"Reminds me"—here he put his hand into his inside pocket and pulled out a flask, "excuse the glass," he said, offering it to Mr. St. Clair, who took a slight sip and handed it back.
"Have a little refreshment," said the colonel, offering it to Ranald.
"I never take it, thank you."
"Don't? Say, by the great Sam, how'd you get through all that wet country? Wall, it will not hurt you to leave it alone," solemnly winking at St. Clair, and taking a long pull himself. "Good for the breath," he continued, putting the flask in his pocket. "Now, about those limits of mine, the boss here has been telling you about our deal?"
"A little," said Ranald.
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