Читать книгу The Long Rifle - Stewart Edward White - Страница 11

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When he reëntered the low dark room the great clock in the corner was tolling the last note of another hour. The old gunmaker dozing by the fire awakened with a start. The young man slipped into a chair.

“Now, suh, if you don’t mind, I’ve been figgerin’,” said he, “on what you been tellin’ me. And I’d like to talk some more about these idees of yours. You don’t know how interestin’ they are to me, suh.”

“Surely, lad, surely,” agreed the old man. He glanced incredulously at the tall clock, now dim in the twilight. “You have been long,” he commented.

“Yes, suh,” agreed his visitor apologetically. “But I would have returned much sooner had I known the customs of yo’ people yereabouts.”