"My daughter, Mr. Morley, will be out presently," he announced with
great formality.
"And how are you, Mike?" went on young Morley, stooping to pat the
dog; "didn't mean to cut you, old fellow, 'pon my word I didn't."
The dog, a shaggy beast, with small, plaintive eyes looking out from a
fringe of wiry hair, expressed his appreciation of this attention with
all the emotion a stump of tail would permit.
"It's a bully day!" continued the visitor with enthusiasm, wiping his
wrists and forehead, and tossing his hair back. "If I weren't going to
town to-night I'd ask you to take me fishing, Colonel. Hello! What
kind of a reel is that?"
Now the article which had attracted attention happened to be an
invention of the Colonel's, something he had been working on for a
long time, so he could not resist explaining its unique qualities.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" said Morley, turning it over and over
admiringly. "If that isn't the cleverest thing I ever saw. This little
screw regulates the slack, doesn't it? Does your legal mind get on to
that, Wick?"
"It was a great job to get that to fit," said the Colonel, nattered in
spite of himself.
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