“Well! I’ll be!” exclaimed the farmer, much interested. “And what might yer name be, young feller?”
“Paul Winkler.”
After a short pause, during which Paul fervently hoped that the catechism was over, his companion asked again.
“And why was you askin’ me where that other road went to?”
The boy smiled, and shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Jes’ for curiosity?”
“Yes.”
“Hum. How old might you be?”
“Seventeen.”