in their place by the gunwale.
“Where’s the sail and mast?” said Harvey, for his hands were beginning to blister.
Dan chuckled. “Ye don’t sail fishin’-dories much. Ye pull; but ye needn’t pull so hard. Don’t you wish you owned her?”
“Well, I guess my father might give me one or two if I asked ’em,” Harvey replied. He had been too busy to think much of his family till then.
“That’s so. I forgot your dad’s a millionaire. You don’t act millionary any, naow. But a dory an’ craft an’ gear”—Dan spoke as though she were a whaleboat—“costs a heap. Think your dad ’u’d give you one fer—fer a pet like?”
“Shouldn’t wonder. It would be ’most the only thing I haven’t stuck him for yet.”
“Must be an expensive kinder kid to home. Don’t slitheroo