“Why, squire, as to that, the way I look at it is this: You gave me two days to trade, and you didn’t say _where_ I should go in particular. You didn’t buy any thing, and I thought your daughter might want a few traps.” “Where do you intend to pass the night?” “I don’t know. But surely some one will be glad to entertain me, and take some of my wares in consideration. I’ve picked up a good many furs since I came out here, and they are getting heavy. I can’t travel far in a day.” “You should have a horse,” said Theresa, looking up from the pack, which she was turning over after a woman’s fashion. “I _did_ have one when I came, but old Paul Swedlepipe wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, but would have him.” “I’ll wager my commission that he paid for the horse,” said Van Curter, with a laugh. “How much did he give you?” “Seventy-five guilders. I look upon it in the light of a praiseworthy action—_giving_ that hoss away.” “Giving it away! S’death, man, I have a dozen horses, and you may have the best of them for seventy-five guilders.” “I’ll take a look into your stable before I go away,” said Boston. “In the mean time, I’ve got something I want _you_ to look at.” He tumbled over the wares and took out a pair of heavy spurs. “Now look at that,” he cried, in a tone of exultant admiration. “Did you ever, in your born days, see sech a pair of spurs as that? No you didn’t, so you needn’t say it. I don’t say that they are the best pair of spurs in the Colonies, but I put it to you, squire, can you put your finger upon a pair as good, anywhere? If you can, I should be proud to know it.” Van Curter took up the spurs and looked at them closely. “Now tell me,” said he, “where is the cheat in this pair of spurs. I take it for granted that there is such a thing about it, since a Yankee brought them. Is it in the price, or in the articles themselves?” “Oh, as to that,” replied Boston, with an air of injured innocence, “I don’t say any thing. You will have it that there is a cheat in every thing I offer for sale; but, if there is one there, _you_ can’t find it.” Van Curter laughed again. “Come now,” he said, “I am willing to take the spurs, and at your price, too, if you will tell me just where the cheat is to be?” “You will take them any way?” “Yes.” “Then I’ll tell you; or, rather, it won’t be necessary to tell you any more than the price.” “And what is the price?” “Forty guilders.” “Hein!” shouted Van Curter, breaking into Dutch. “Do you mean, seriously and gravely, to ask me forty guilders for a pair of spurs not worth ten?” “You wanted to know where the cheat was—in the spurs or the price. You’ve got it. It’s in the _price_.” “Der tuyvel! Hold; here is your money. And now take away your pack, or you will ruin my house. Go quickly.” “I was thinking to wait,” said Boston, coolly buttoning up the cash in his breeches-pocket, “until the lady has made her selections; she don’t seem to have finished.”