The Rover boys were delighted to have Hans Mueller with them, for they loved to hear him talk. While a pupil at Putnam Hall Hans’s English had not been of the best, and since he had withdrawn to Chicago, and gone into the delicatessen business, it had certainly not improved.
“I suppose he comes in contact with so many foreigners his tongue gets all twisted up,” was the way Jack explained it. “But he’s a dear old Uncle Hans, nevertheless.”
“Many is der time what I’d like to go py Putnam Hall pack,” said Uncle Hans, with a mountainous sigh. “But dat old school ain’t no more, so I hear.”
“Yes, you are right. Captain Putnam had to retire on account of his age,” answered Tom. “We certainly did have some great times there, Hans.”
“Yes, Dom, so we did. Do you remember dem other fellows—dat Villiam Philander Dubbs, for instance?”
“Do I remember William Philander Tubbs!” cried Tom, mentioning a dudish youth who had created considerable sport for him and his brothers. “I’ll never forget him!”
“Do you know what Dubbs is doing now?” went on Uncle Hans, his small eyes twinkling.
“No.”
“Dot is a good joke, ha-ha!” roared Uncle Hans. “Dot is de best joke what I know of!”
“What does this William Philander Tubbs do?” questioned Jack eagerly.