William's house and the two of the old Bodet place.

"Did you know it?" demanded the artist. He was facing Uncle William in
the boat as they rowed home.

"I didn't know it," said Uncle William, with a long, easy pull, "but I
reckoned suthin' 'd be along putty soon. If it hadn't come to-day, I was
goin' to make Andy give us enough to begin on."

"He wouldn't have done it."

"Oh, yes, he'd 'a' done it. He'd 'a' squirmed and twisted some, but he'd
'a' done it. He'd 'a' had to!"

The artist laughed out happily. "Well, now you can do as you like. We'll
have the best boat there is going."

Uncle William nodded. "I knew you'd want to. I've been kind o' plannin'
for it. We'll go down to-morrow or next day and see about it."

The artist looked at him curiously. "I don't believe you care half as
much as I do!"

Uncle William returned the look, smiling broadly. "It'll seem putty good
to feel my own boards under me again," he said cheerfully.

"But you didn't care when you didn't have them," said the artist. "You
just toted those infernal kittens--"

Uncle William's chuckle was genial. "Kittens ain't everything," he said