Then the driver got deliberately down.

He was a tall man, of good bearing, in his shoulders but little of the stoop of the farmer, and on his hands not any convincing proof that he was personally acquainted with continuous bodily toil.

His face was thin, aquiline, proud; his hair dark, his eyes gray.

He might have been a planter, a rancher, a man of leisure or a man of affairs, as it might happen that one met him at the one locality or the other.

One might have called him a gentleman, another only a "pilgrim." To Sam he was a "mover," and that was all.