“Why, how do you do, Mr. Hurstwood?” came from the first individual recognised.
“Glad to see you,” said the latter, grasping his hand lightly.
“Looks quite an affair, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, indeed,” said the manager.
“Custer seems to have the backing of its members,” observed the friend.
“So it should,” said the knowing manager. “I’m glad to see it.”
“Well, George,” said another rotund citizen, whose avoirdupois made necessary an almost alarming display of starched shirt bosom, “how goes it with you?”
“Excellent,” said the manager.
“What brings you over here? You’re not a member of Custer.”
“Good-nature,” returned the manager. “Like to see the boys, you know.”