THE WOLF HUNTERS 



that come over old Rich's phiz as he fell all over 

 himself getting 'round behind the counter, asking 

 as he went: * What's the name, my man?' * Rob- 

 ert Chambers, of F Company, sir,' says Bob, still 

 standing to * attention.' 



"Well, sir, the old kernel shuffled those letters 

 over two or three times a-tryin' his level best to 

 dig up one for Chambers, an' seemed awfully sorry 

 when he had to say, as he put them back in the 

 pigeonhole: *No, nothing for you to-day. Cham- 

 bers.' An' he was so sorry to disappoint Bob that 

 he reached over on the shelf an' handed out a plug 

 of tobacco, as he added, sort of regretful-like: 

 *But there's some of the best navy tobacco you 

 ever smacked your lips over.' *No doubt of it, 

 kernel, for when you recommend a thing it's bound 

 to be first class, but unfortunately I'm dead broke,' 

 says Chambers. 'Oh, take it along,' says the old 

 man, as he pushed the plug across the counter; 

 *you can hand me the money next pay-day.' An' 

 he was so pleased with Bob's blarney that he 

 never even chalked it down to him; an' I'm dead 

 sure that Chambers didn't remind him of it when 

 pay-day come, for Bob wasn't built that way. 



"As we started out of the store. Bob says over 

 his shoulder like for old Rich to hear, * Kernel 

 Rich is one of the finest old gentlemen I ever 

 knew.' 



"When we got outside the store door again. Bill 

 Shutts remarked, as he gazed at Chambers in 



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