Presently a horse and buggy drove up the lane and stopped almost beneath him. Mauney opened the window to listen, since he knew it was too early for William to be returning.
“Who’s that?” he heard his father’s voice enquire.
“Is this where Mr. Bard lives?” enquired a strange but cultured voice.
“You bet.”
“I’m your pastor, Mr. Bard,” the strange voice continued. “And if you have a few moments, I’ll come in just long enough to get acquainted. It’s a little late, but I didn’t think you’d be in bed yet. I’ll just tie her here, thanks. My name, as I presume you’ve heard, is Tough, but I’m not as tough as I look.”
“How are yu’, Mr. Tough?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“There’s nobody here, but me an’ the hired woman—but—”
“No matter! I’ll take you as I find you. I understand that Mrs. Bard died some years since.”
“Yes. My wife wasn’t never very strong, an’ I never married again.”