He's got a hole 'round here somewheres."
Jim sprang out of the buck-board. Fumbling under the seat he brought out
a bag of nuts. The squirrel took them from his hand, stuffing his mouth
full, five at a time, limping away to hide them, and back again for more
until the bag was empty, Jim, contented and unhurried, squatting on the
ground, his long knees bent under him. The way in which he did this gave
me infinite delight. No vagabond I had ever known ignored time and duty
more complacently.
We drove on in silence, Jim taking in everything we passed. This
shambling, slenderly educated, and clay-soiled man was fast looming up
as a find of incalculable value--the most valuable of my experience.
The most important thing, however, was still to be settled if a perfect
harmony of interests was to be established between us--_would he
like me_?
Marvin's cabin, in which I was to spend my holiday, lay on a clearing
half a mile or more outside the woods and at the foot of a hill that
helped prop up the Knob.
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