“It's pretty nice here under the trees,” said Orde. “Sit down and light up. Where you been for the last couple of weeks?”
“I caught Johnson's drive and went on down river with him to the lake,” replied Newmark, thrusting the offered cigar in one corner of his mouth and shaking his head at Orde's proffer of a light.
“You must like camp life.”
“I do not like it at all,” negatived Newmark emphatically, “but the drive interested me. It interested me so much that I've come back to talk to you about it.”
“Fire ahead,” acquiesced Orde.
“I'm going to ask you a few questions about yourself, and you can answer them or not, just as you please.”
“Oh, I'm not bashful about my career,” laughed Orde.
“How old are you?” inquired Newmark abruptly.
“Thirty.”
“How long have you been doing that sort of thing—driving, I mean?”