"
"Where?"
"Oh, down at Stamford."
"Why, that's near New York."
"Of course; don't you send your fur to New York?"
"Yes, but it costs a lot to get it there.
"Now," said Warren, "if you'll take it in trade, I'll meet you
half-way and call it one hundred dollars."
"Make it one hundred and twenty-five dollars and I'll take a
rifle, anyway."
"Phew!" whistled the trader. "Where do ye get such notions? "
"Nothing wrong about the notion; old Si Sylvanne offered me
pretty near that, if I'd come out his way with the stuff."
This had the desired effect of showing that there were other
traders. At last the deal was closed. Besides the fox skin, they
had three hundred dollars' worth of fur. The exchange for the fox
skin was enough to buy all the groceries and dry goods they
needed. But Rolf had something else in mind.
He had picked out some packages of candies, some calico prints
and certain bright ribbons, when the trader grasped the idea. "I
see; yer goin' visitin'. Who is it? Must be the Van Trumpers! "
Rolf nodded and now he got some very intelligent guidance. He did
not buy Annette's dress, because part of her joy was to be the
expedition in person to pick it out; but he stocked up with some
gorgeous pieces of jewellery that were ten cents each, and
ribbons whose colours were as far beyond expression as were the
joys they could create in the backwoods female heart.
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