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Updated: May 26, 2025
They had uttered them as a laughing prediction, but might they not have rated them as true? With sudden chagrin he looked from Willie to Janoah and from Janoah back to Willie again. "I've been inquirin' up this Galbraith," went on Janoah. "It 'pears he's a big New York shipbuilder that's what he is an' Snellin' is one of his head men."
"Well, it warn't all me," protested the little inventor modestly. "Most of it was Bob. I got the idee an' he did the rest him an' Mr. Galbraith's friend, Mr. Snellin'." "Well, I'm clean beat that's all I can say," observed Zenas Henry, mopping his brow. "I tell you what, it's made a new thing of that motor-boat. There's no thankin' you.
"An' Snellin'?" "He is in Mr. Galbraith's employ, yes." "An' an' you let 'em come here " began the old man bewildered. "You let 'em come here to steal Willie's idee," interrupted Janoah, wheeling on Bob. "You helped 'em to come, after his takin' you into his home an' all!" "I didn't know what they meant to do," Robert Morton stammered.
Buck Snellin, the proprietor duly licensed for a matter of thirty years past by the United States government to conduct his hostelry in the corner of the Indian reservation, up against the door of the army post did not know him. That threw him among strangers in that land, indeed, for Buck knew everybody within a hundred miles on every side.
"Don't you pet Willie a little yourself, Aunt Tiny?" teased Delight. "You know you do. Everybody does. We can't help it. People just love him and like to see him happy." "I know it," the woman admitted. Look at Bob an' this Mr. Snellin' sweatin' in that shop like beavers over somethin' that ain't never goin' to do 'em an ounce of good mebbe ain't never goin' to do anybody no good.
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