“Really? Who are they?”
“Well, Chase was one, and Koehler was another, and—I don’t just remember who the other one was.”
“There’s Shaler,” Rob suggested. “He’s a mighty good line-smasher. And Kasker’s a good tackle.”
“All right. Anyone else?”
“No, I guess not.”
[“Then that’s settled, eh?” asked Hopkins beamingly.]
“What?”
“Why, that you’ll come to us and that the others we spoke of can come if they want to.”
Rob dug his hands into his pockets, stretched his legs out from under his chair and grinned across at Hopkins.
“No, Hop,” he said, shaking his head, “the only thing that’s settled is that you’re a good deal of a rascal and much more of a fool than I took you for.” He got up. “I might forgive you the first, Hop, but I hate a fool.”