Mifflin filled his pipe and was chuckling to himself. I was
a little worried now for fear Andrew might overtake us.
"It's a wonder Sam Mason didn't call up Andrew," I said. "It
must have looked mighty queer to him for an old farm hand like
me to be around, peddling books."
"He would have done it straight off," said Mifflin, "but you
see, I cut his telephone wire!"
CHAPTER FIVE
I gazed in astonishment at the wizened little rogue. Here was
a new side to the amiable idealist! Apparently there was a
streak of fearless deviltry in him besides his gentle love of
books. I'm bound to say that now, for the first time, I
really admired him. I had burnt my own very respectable boats
behind me, and I rather enjoyed knowing that he, too, could
act briskly in a pinch.
"Well!" I said. "You are a cool hand! It's a good job for
you that you didn't stay a schoolmaster. You might have taught
your pupils some fine deviltries! And at your age, too!"
I'm afraid my raillery goes a little too far sometimes. He
flushed a bit at my reference to his age, and puffed sharply
at his pipe.
"I say," he rejoined, "how old do you think I am, anyway?
Only forty-one, by the bones of Byron! Henry VIII was only
forty-one when he married Anne Boleyn.
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