DRIFTED BACK
The stranger walked into the corner grocery with the air of one who had come back after many years to see someone who would be glad to see him. He shed his swag and stood it by the wall with great deliberation; then he rested his elbow on the counter, stroked his beard, and grinned quizzically at the shopman, who smiled back presently in a puzzled way.
'Good afternoon,' said the grocer.
'Good afternoon.'
Pause.
'Nice day,' said the grocer.
'Nice day.'
Pause.
'Anything I can do for you?'
'Yes; tell the old man there's a chap wants to speak to him for a minute.'
'Old man? What old man?'
'Hake, of course―old Ben Hake! Ain't he in?'
The grocer smiled.
'Hake ain't here now. I'm here.'
'How's that?'
'Why, he sold out to me ten years ago.'
'Well, I suppose I'll find him somewhere about town?'
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