oblige,” said the scruffy man as he gave a nod to his redheaded helper. “For a fee, of course.”
Clive smiled, revealing several brown and missing teeth.
“And what might that fee be?”
The scruffy man spit into the river. He eyed Gentry for a bit, stroking his chin, and finally said, “Twenty gold pieces.”
Gentry did not flinch. He was quite skilled at negotiating and did not want to let them know how desperate he was to make his way across the river. “I shall give you but five gold pieces,” he said firmly.
“Clive, this man takes us for fools!” the man cried.
“Aye, that he does, Dennison,” the redheaded helper replied, a scowl now upon his once smiling face.
“You have a horse – that extra weight is extra cost. This raft does not sail itself,” Dennison insisted, grabbing an oar for emphasis as he stared Gentry down.
Gentry did not respond. He did not move. He just stood firm and waited.
“Aye, all right. Fifteen gold pieces and you have a deal,” Dennison finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
“I am not certain that your rickety old raft can even handle the weight of me and my horse,” replied Gentry calmly. “At that price I am prepared to wait for a more sturdy boat to arrive.” Gentry was not really prepared to wait, and he hoped that Dennison would not call his bluff.
Dennison was clearly agitated and eyed Gentry closely. “Let me have a discussion with my business partner – perhaps we may come to a more agreeable price.”
With that, Dennison and Clive disappeared behind the sail and started speaking in hushed tones. After a few moments, Dennison and Clive came out from behind the sail. “Sir, we are prepared to offer you a price of ten gold pieces to take you and your horse across the river. We shall not give you another offer.”
Gentry nodded and stepped forward to shake Dennison’s hand. “Aye, you have a deal.”
“We shall require payment up front, of course,” Dennison said.
Gentry nodded and turned his back to the men as he counted out the gold pieces from his small burlap sack. Dennison eyed the gold pieces suspiciously at first as if he believed them to be fake, but a quick bite on the metal satisfied him.
It took some time to coax Casper onto the rickety dock and even more rickety raft – he was clearly uncomfortable with the unsteady motion beneath his feet. But Gentry held him tightly by the reins and spoke softly as he stroked the horse’s head, and eventually the makeshift raft was on its way to the opposite shoreline.
The wind was favorable and they made good time crossing the River Nye. Dennison stood on one edge of the raft with an oar while Clive stood on the other with an oar of his own, and each man carefully steered the raft towards one of the docks on the far side. Gentry held on to Casper tightly and kept an eye on the shore. It was not long before they were pulling up to a much more sturdy dock on the Bartow side of the river. Clive tied up the raft and Gentry started the arduous process of guiding Casper onto the dock.
Just as Casper finally managed to place all four hooves on the dock, Dennison called out to Gentry. “I believe you have forgotten something.”
Gentry turned around. Before he could register what was happening, Clive rushed at him and threw him down upon the dock. Casper took off in a panic as the two men began to wrestle. One thing about Gentry, which Clive would learn the hard way, is that he was surprisingly strong. It did not take long before Gentry was able to secure his footing, grab hold of Clive, and throw him into the river.
Gentry was wiping the blood from his mouth when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He spun around just in time to see Dennison advancing upon him with a knife in hand. Before Dennison had a chance to lunge, Gentry ran straight for him.
What fool runs at a man holding a knife? Caught off guard, Dennison was quickly tackled by Gentry. The impact sent both men onto the
Clive smiled, revealing several brown and missing teeth.
“And what might that fee be?”
The scruffy man spit into the river. He eyed Gentry for a bit, stroking his chin, and finally said, “Twenty gold pieces.”
Gentry did not flinch. He was quite skilled at negotiating and did not want to let them know how desperate he was to make his way across the river. “I shall give you but five gold pieces,” he said firmly.
“Clive, this man takes us for fools!” the man cried.
“Aye, that he does, Dennison,” the redheaded helper replied, a scowl now upon his once smiling face.
“You have a horse – that extra weight is extra cost. This raft does not sail itself,” Dennison insisted, grabbing an oar for emphasis as he stared Gentry down.
Gentry did not respond. He did not move. He just stood firm and waited.
“Aye, all right. Fifteen gold pieces and you have a deal,” Dennison finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
“I am not certain that your rickety old raft can even handle the weight of me and my horse,” replied Gentry calmly. “At that price I am prepared to wait for a more sturdy boat to arrive.” Gentry was not really prepared to wait, and he hoped that Dennison would not call his bluff.
Dennison was clearly agitated and eyed Gentry closely. “Let me have a discussion with my business partner – perhaps we may come to a more agreeable price.”
With that, Dennison and Clive disappeared behind the sail and started speaking in hushed tones. After a few moments, Dennison and Clive came out from behind the sail. “Sir, we are prepared to offer you a price of ten gold pieces to take you and your horse across the river. We shall not give you another offer.”
Gentry nodded and stepped forward to shake Dennison’s hand. “Aye, you have a deal.”
“We shall require payment up front, of course,” Dennison said.
Gentry nodded and turned his back to the men as he counted out the gold pieces from his small burlap sack. Dennison eyed the gold pieces suspiciously at first as if he believed them to be fake, but a quick bite on the metal satisfied him.
It took some time to coax Casper onto the rickety dock and even more rickety raft – he was clearly uncomfortable with the unsteady motion beneath his feet. But Gentry held him tightly by the reins and spoke softly as he stroked the horse’s head, and eventually the makeshift raft was on its way to the opposite shoreline.
The wind was favorable and they made good time crossing the River Nye. Dennison stood on one edge of the raft with an oar while Clive stood on the other with an oar of his own, and each man carefully steered the raft towards one of the docks on the far side. Gentry held on to Casper tightly and kept an eye on the shore. It was not long before they were pulling up to a much more sturdy dock on the Bartow side of the river. Clive tied up the raft and Gentry started the arduous process of guiding Casper onto the dock.
Just as Casper finally managed to place all four hooves on the dock, Dennison called out to Gentry. “I believe you have forgotten something.”
Gentry turned around. Before he could register what was happening, Clive rushed at him and threw him down upon the dock. Casper took off in a panic as the two men began to wrestle. One thing about Gentry, which Clive would learn the hard way, is that he was surprisingly strong. It did not take long before Gentry was able to secure his footing, grab hold of Clive, and throw him into the river.
Gentry was wiping the blood from his mouth when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He spun around just in time to see Dennison advancing upon him with a knife in hand. Before Dennison had a chance to lunge, Gentry ran straight for him.
What fool runs at a man holding a knife? Caught off guard, Dennison was quickly tackled by Gentry. The impact sent both men onto the
Similar Books
