Jane Cable, page 149 by George Barr McCutcheon
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at hand. That evening Bansemer was discovered leaning against the corner of a nipa shack some distance from his comrades, smoking silently while they talked and made merry behind him. He seldom joined in the ribald but suppressed conversations of the men.
"Have you fellows ever noticed that he don't get any letters from the States-never seems to expect any?" asked Johnny Rogers, the one-time foundry man, who sat watching him. Graydon had not been the subject of conversation, but all knew whom Johnny meant by "he."
"I've noticed that, too," said Joe Adams.
"I got him sized up all right," said one of the Spurrier boys. "His people don't know where he's at. That feller's a swell at home an' he's had to skip out. I'll bet my breakfast his name ain't Bansemer. An' if his people don't know where he's at, how in thunder can they write to him? See what I mean?"
"Think he's a bank cashier?" asked Sim Relander.
"Naw; it ain't money, it's some girl. I know these swell guys," said Rogers. "You're right about his people not knowin' where to write. He's a mystery, that feller is. I'll tell what I think: his folks have fired him out--won't recognise him. See? Disgraced 'em, an' all that. That's why he ain't expectin' nothin' from home. He knows he won't get it."
"I feel kind o' sorry for a feller like that," mused Tom Reagan. "I had a brother that had to skip once."
"That so? Did he ever come back?"
"I s'd say not. He ducked for good. Mother had a letter from him couple o' months before I left home. He was in Milwaukee."
"Aw, this Bansemer's not that sort. He's made o' different stuff. Milwaukee? Holy Moses, it's only eighty mile from Chicago!"
"Gee, I'd like to have a glass o' the goods that made Milwaukee famous," sighed Joe Adams.
"I'd like a keg," said Jim Spurrier, with a wistful look in his eyes.
"S'pose we'll ever see a glass o' beer again?" asked the other Spurrier, solemnly.
"I'll bet Bansemer's wonderin' if he'll ever taste cha