young man came over to him.
“Good-bye, Mr. Thornhill,” he said. “You don’t often look us up in these days.”
“You don’t often look me up, Prior, for the matter of that.”
“Oh well, Mr. Thornhill,” said the other shamefacedly. “I should like to, you know. Er—may I come and try for a bushbuck someday?”
“Why of course you may, man, any mortal time you feel inclined, or can. By the way, how do you like your new chief?”
“No end. He’s—er—he’s such a gentleman.”
There was a world of admiration—of hero worship in the young man’s tone, and colonial youth is by no means prone to such.
“Ah,” replied Thornhill. “Well, I agree with you, Prior. Good-bye.”
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