Jones."
"Any partic'lar part?"
"No," said Barnes, suddenly divining that he was being "pumped." "One
end to the other, you might say."
"What about them countries down around Bulgaria and Roumania? I've
been considerable interested in what's going to become of them if
Germany gets licked. What do they get out of it, either way?"
Barnes spent the next ten minutes expatiating upon the future of the
Balkan states. Jones had little to say. He was interested, and drank
in all the information that Barnes had to impart. He puffed at his
pipe, nodded his head from time to time, and occasionally put a
leading question. And quite as abruptly as he introduced the topic he
changed it.
"Not many automobiles up here at this time 'o the year," he said. "I
was a little surprised when you said a feller had given you a lift.
Where from?"
"The cross-roads, a mile down. He came from the direction of Frogg's
Corner and was on his way to meet some one at Spanish Falls." Barnes
shrewdly leaped to the conclusion that the landlord's interest in the
European War was more or less assumed. The man's purpose was beginning
to reveal itself. He was evidently curious, if not actually concerned,
about his guest's arrival by motor.
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