"Who is your folks?" he says. "The Phelpses, down yonder." "Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says: "How'd you say he got shot?" "He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." "Singular dream," he says. So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her - said she was big enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two.

39