"You know Mr. Harum, then," said John, with a glimmer of interest. "Does he deal in horses?"
"Wa'al, I guess I make eout to know him," asserted the "prince'ple liv'ryman," "an' he'll git up 'n the middle o' the night any time to git the best of a hoss trade. Be you goin' to work fer him?" he asked, encouraged to press the question. "Goin' to take Timson's place?"
"Really," said John, in a tone which advanced Mr. Robinson's opinion to a rooted conviction, "I have never heard of Mr. Timson."
"He's the feller that Dave's lettin' go," explained Mr. Robinson. "He's ben in the bank a matter o' five or six year, but Dave got down on him fer some little thing or other, an' he's got his walkin' papers. He says to me, says he, 'If any feller thinks he c'n come up here f'm N'York or anywheres else, he says, 'an' do Dave Harum's work to suit him, he'll find he's bit off a dum sight more'n he c'n chaw. He'd better keep his gripsack packed the hull time,' Chet says."
"I thought I'd sock it to the cuss a little," remarked Mr. Robinson in recounting the conversation subsequently; and, in truth, it was not elevating to the spirits of our friend, who found himself speculating whether or no Timson might not be right.
"Where you goin' to put up?" asked Mr. Robinson after an interval, having failed to draw out any response to his last effort.
"Is there more than one hotel?" inquired the passenger.
"The's the Eagle, an' the Lake House, an' Smith's Hotel," replied Jehu.
"Which would you recommend?" asked John.
"Wa'al," said Robinson, "I don't gen'ally praise up one more'n another. You see, I have more or less dealin' with all on 'em."