"So THIS GARGLEMOUTH -"

"Gragelouth," Buncan corrected him.

"So 'e were a merchant from far away, an' a sloth."  Squill dug his feet into the squishy sand of the riverbank.  "Wot was 'e, besides slothful?"

They were on the beach which struck out into the current on an upper bend of the Shortstub.  Vest and pants bundled nearby, Neena cavorted in the. water, a sliver of brown sleekness arcing through the silver.  Like any other non-otter, Buncan could only look on enviously.

"Experienced and well-traveled," he told Squill.

"Wealthy?"

“Hard to say.  Sloths as a general rule aren't very forthcoming."

"Don't see many in the Bellwoods."

"This one had a wagon and pair."

"Came a long way, 'e did, to harangue mister hardshell."  Squill evicted a small freshwater crab with a toe, watched it scurry for the water.  "This 'ere Grand Veritable 'e were prattlin' about.  Sounds special."

"Clothahump doesn't think it exists."

Locating a nice palm-sized rock, Squill aimed and attempted to hit his sister the next time she broke the surface.  She dodged the missile with ease.  "Accordin' to wot you're tellin' me, mate, ol' beak-face spent a lot 'o time listenin'.  Wot do that tell you?"

"That Clothahump is kind to strangers."

"Tell me another!  The old bugger's a grump."

Buncan skipped a smooth stone of his own across the placid surface.  He was stronger than Squill, but not has quick.  "Then we're left to consider the alternative, which is that there was some substance to what the trader was saying."

"Never been to the northwest," Squill murmured thoughtfully.  "Never been anywheres, really."

Neena had emerged from the water and was shaking herself dry, her dark-brown fur glistening with droplets.  "So if Clothahump's not gonna check this story out?"

"Doesn't look like it," Buncan told her.  "He let this Gragelouth spend the night.  I'm sure he's already left."

"Wot about Jon-Tom?"  She dug moss from behind one ear.

Buncan regarded the river.  "Dad's become... settled.  You know what Talea would think about him going off on some crazy quest.  Or how Weegee would give it to Mudge if he tried the same."

"Old people," groused Squill.

"Better not let Mudge 'ear you say that,"  Neena warned as she methodically dried her whiskers.

"Squill's more than half right."  Buncan chucked another rock into the water.  "They've all gotten tired and lazy, forgotten what adventure's all about.  They've become too much a part of the community."

"Well, I ain't part o' no community."  Squill rose and adjusted the angle of his cap's feathers.  "Me, I says we go after this 'ere Gragelouth and check out 'is story for ourselves.  An' if 'e's lyin', we'll be able to bring back proof o' it."

"Right," agreed his sister.  "Maybe 'e were just tryin' to extort some money from ol' drawer-guts.  Or free 'elp."

"Clothahump doesn't hand out free samples," Buncan murmured.

"Sure, 'e ain't dumb," Squill agreed, nodding.  "Just lazy."

"I wonder how far to the northwest this Grand Veritable thing is supposed to lie," Buncan said.