And at last I was rewarded.
One day I had scarcely reached the end of the hedge when I saw Old Toombs himself, moving toward me down the country road.

Though I had never seen him before, I was at no loss to identify him.

The first and vital impression he gave me, if I can compress it into a single word, was, I think, force--force.

He came stubbing down the country road with a brown hickory stick in his hand which at every step he set vigorously into the soft earth.

Though not tall, he gave the impression of being enormously strong.