"I been thinking I might likely kind of branch
out on my own account."
"Well, I'll be doggoned!" Old Charley Lohr was amazed; he ruffled
up his gray moustache with thumb and forefinger, leaving his
mouth open beneath, like a dark cave under a tangled wintry
thicket. "Why, that's the doggonedest thing I ever heard!" he
said. "I already am the oldest inhabitant down there, but if you
go, there won't be anybody else of the old generation at all.
What on earth you thinkin' of goin' into?"
"Well," said Adams, "I rather you didn't mention it till I get
started; of course anybody'll know what it is by then--but I HAVE
been kind of planning to put a liquid glue on the market."
His friend, still ruffling the gray moustache upward, stared at
him in frowning perplexity. "Glue?" he said. "GLUE!"
"Yes. I been sort of milling over the idea of taking up
something like that."
"Handlin' it for some firm, you mean?"
"No. Making it. Sort of a glue-works likely."
Lohr continued to frown. "Let me think," he said. "Didn't the
ole man have some such idea once, himself?"
Adams leaned forward, rubbing his knees; and he coughed again
before he spoke. "Well, yes. Fact is, he did. That is to say,
a mighty long while ago he did."
"I remember," said Lohr.
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