THE COUNTRY BOY
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didn’t have money to pay for what I had eaten and the friendly way Bob stuck so close to me I did not want to show any more enterprise, so I had to work the next day in J. Wolfard Co.’s shingle shed piling shingles to pay for a meal
that wasn’t on the regular bill of fare. Old Bob strangely spent the whole day with me, spryer than he had been for years, and after that night he seemed to pin his faith to me and whenever I was downtown he was always with me when I sat down. He always got right in front of
