An east wind springing up gave them a chance to profit by a wagon-cover rigged as a sail, and two hours later the scow was safely landed at West Side, where was a country store, and the head of the wagon road to the Schroon River.
As they approached the door, they saw a rough-looking man slouching against the building, his hands in his pockets, his blear eyes taking in the new-comers with a look of contemptuous hostility.

As they passed, he spat tobacco juice on the dog and across the feet of the men.
Old Warren who kept the store was not partial to Indians, but he was a good friend of Hendrik and very keen to trade for fur, so the new trappers were well received; and now came the settling of accounts.
Flour, oatmeal, pork, potatoes, tea, tobacco, sugar, salt, powder, ball, shot, clothes, lines, an inch-auger, nails, knives, awls, needles, files, another axe, some tin plates, and a frying pan were selected and added to Hendrik's account.
"If I was you, I'd take a windy-sash; you'll find it mighty convenient in cold weather." The store keeper led them into an outhouse where was a pile of six-lighted window-frames all complete.

So the awkward thing was added to their load.
"Can't I sell you a fine rifle ?" and he took down a new, elegant small bore of the latest pattern.

"Only twenty-five dollars." Rolf shook his head; "part down, and I'll take the rest in fur next spring." Rolf was sorely tempted; however, he had an early instilled horror of debt.

He steadfastly said: "No." But many times he regretted it afterward! The small balance remaining was settled in cash.
As they were arranging and selecting, they heard a most hideous yelping outdoors, and a minute later Skookum limped in, crying as if half-killed.