"
"And whereabouts is 'down our way,' if one may be so bold as to ask
the question?" returned le Bourdon, holding the door half-opened,
while he turned his face toward the other, in expectation of the
answer.
"Why, down at Whiskey Centre, to be sure, as the v'y'gerers and
other boatmen call the place."
"And where is Whiskey Centre?" demanded Ben, a little
pertinaciously.
"Why, I thought everybody would 'a' known that," answered Greshom;
"sin' whiskey is as drawin' as a blister. Whiskey Centre is just
where _I_ happen to live; bein' what a body may call a travellin'
name. As I'm now down at the mouth of the Kalamazoo, why Whiskey
Centre's there, too."
"I understand the matter, now," answered le Bourdon, composing his
well-formed mouth in a sort of contemptuous smile. "You and whiskey,
being sworn friends, are always to be found in company. When I came
into the river, which was the last week in April, I saw nothing like
whiskey, nor anything like a Centre at the mouth."
"If you'd 'a' be'n a fortnight later, STRANger, you'd 'a' found
both. Travellin' Centres, and stationary, differs somewhat, I guess;
one is always to be found, while t'other must be s'arched a'ter.
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