Hank winked at the loungers in order to show them that he was now prepared to have some fun with the queer-looking German youth.
“Is that so? How was that, Dutchy?” he asked with a grin.
“Pecos I come on a passenger boat,” rejoined young Dill with all the equanimity in the world.
A look of intense discomfiture spread over Hank’s face.
“The Dutchman’s too much for him,” he heard some one whisper. As might be expected this remark did not tend to smooth over Hank’s feelings toward the simple-looking young German. Instead he determined to launch some shaft of wit at him that would squash him flatter than a pancake. But so far all his attempts had proved boomerangs.
“I suppose you know all about sausages?” he asked.
Young Dill’s eyes glittered. Here was a subject in which he was deeply interested.
“Oh ches!” he burst out eagerly, “sissages und——”
“Never mind that, Sauerkraut,” sneered Hank. “What kind of meat makes the best bologna?”