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"Another page," I said; "good night!" "Good-bye two dollar bill," he said, "it was between those two other pages. That's why there was a stain on the right page in the book. There was a stain on the bill made by the oar-lock and when the page and the bill blew over, the fresh oil on the bill kind of stamped itself on the left hand page. You didn't damage the book. You only damaged the bill.
Westy said; "I lifted the oar-lock and felt underneath and I laid it down again, right where it was on a book or something. When I flashed the light it wasn't there. Come on, we'll be late. I'd let you have two bucks if I had that much extra, but I've only got two myself. You can chip in yours to-morrow, it'll be all right." I got up and I felt awful funny.
"I'm glad you said that," I told him; "I forgot my two bucks." "I'll go back," Westy said; "you wait here." There wasn't any time to stop him and anyway, he can beat me running, I have to admit that. "Where did you leave it?" he called back. "I laid it right on the table," I shouted, "and I laid an oar-lock on it to keep it from blowing away. Feel around and you'll get It. Hurry up."
First, I felt all around with my hand and I lifted the oar-lock and it wasn't underneath it." "Maybe you got the wrong oar-lock," I said, all excited; "there are two of them." "The other one was hanging up," he said; "I found your flashlight on the duffel-bag and poked the light all around and I saw the other oar-lock hanging up.
There, full in sight, and riding proudly at anchor, the beautiful curves of her swan-like prows made cannon proof with plates of shining steel, and below, in lieu of figurehead to promise victory, those letters of dread omen, C.D.X., with thirty oars-men from the arsenal of Venice, to ensure her speed, each ready at his oar-lock to wield his oar, with a band of marksmen trained to finest tempered arms to quell the resistance which no Venetian would dare offer with those letters on the prow; the gold and scarlet banner of San Marco, for good fortune, at her masthead; the wind swelling her impatient sail, as the curb but frets the steed the galley of the Ten was not waiting without a purpose!
I ought not to have done it, but I loosened the line from the oar-lock, and when it slacked up Pa went right out over the side of the boat, and struck on his pants, and split a hole in the water as big as a wash tub. His head went down under water, and his boot heels hung over in the boat. "What you doin'? Diving after the fish?" says I as Pa's head came up and he blowed out the water.
Westy turned to a new place in the book and then he laid the bill down on the right hand page. Then he laid the oar-lock on the bill. "That's just exactly what you did when you laid the bill down in such a hurry that night you were fixing Skinny up. You laid it on the open book just like that see?" "Maybe I did." I said, "but what's the big idea, kind sir?"
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