The door was pushed gently open and the visitor stood revealed, blinking with an impartial air at the light within.
“Don’t push it wide open,” said Tom; “come in if you are going to, and leave it as it was.”
Mr. Stamps obeyed without making any noise whatever. It was one of his amiable peculiarities that he never made any noise, but appeared and disappeared without giving any warning, making himself very agreeable thereby at inopportune moments. He slipped in without a sound, deftly left the door in its previous position, and at once slipped into a chair, or rather took possession of one, by balancing himself on the extreme edge of it, arranging his legs on the lower bar with some dexterity.
“Howdy?” he said, meekly, having accomplished this.
Tom’s manner was not cordial. He stretched himself, put his hands in his pockets, and made no response to the greeting which was, upon the whole, a rather unnecessary one, as Mr. Stamps had been hanging about the post-office through the whole day, and had only wended his way homeward a few hours before.
“Want anything?” he enquired.
Mr. Stamps turned his hat around in his hands hurriedly.
“No, I don’t want nothin’, Tom,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, very softly:
“I jest thought I’d step in.”
“Where are you going?” asked Tom.