It was hardly pleasant to be rattled at this rate, Heaven knew whither.

But the stranger had chosen his course, and was not the man to change his mind.
After about five minutes of this the cart was pulled up with a scramble, and he heard a voice call out, as it seemed, from the hedge-- "Well ?" "Right you are," answered Young Zeb; "He's in the front room, pullin' on his boots.

You'd best look slippy." "Where's the coin ?" "There!" The stranger heard the click of money, as of a purse being caught.

"You'll find it all right." "H'm; best let me count it, though.

One--two--three--four.