CHAPTER X.
A Meeting on the Road.
Some weeks before the little affair between Blinks and Holly, related in our last chapter, Harry and Kate took a ride over to the railroad station.
During the winter Harry had frequently gone over on horseback to attend to the payments for his wood; and now that the roads were in fit condition for carriage travel, he was glad to have an opportunity to take the buggy and give Kate a ride.
For some days previously, Crooked Creek had been "up;" that is, the spring rains had caused it to overflow, and all travel across it had been suspended. The bridges on such occasions—and Crooked Creek had a bad habit of being "up" several times in the course of a year—were covered, and the lowlands were under water for a considerable distance on each side of the stream. There were so few boats on the creek, and the current, in time of freshets, was so strong, that ferriage was seldom thought of. In consequence of this state of affairs Harry had not heard from his wood-cutters for more than a week, as they had not been able to cross the creek to their homes. It was, therefore, as much to see how they were getting along as to attend to financial matters that he took this trip.
It was a fine, bright day in very early spring, and old Selim trotted on quite gayly. Before very long they overtook Miles Jackson, jogging along on a little bay horse.
Miles was a black man, very sober and sedate who for years had carried the mail twice a week from a station farther up the railroad to the village. But he was not a mail-carrier now. His employer, a white man, who had the contract for carrying the mails, had also gone into another business which involved letter-carrying.
A few miles back from the village of Akeville, where the Loudons lived, was a mica mine, which had recently been bought, and was now worked by a company from the North. This mica (the semi-transparent substance that is set into stove doors) proved to be very plentiful and valuable, and the company had a great deal of business on their hands. It was frequently necessary to send messages and letters to the North, and these were always carried over to the station on the other side of Crooked Creek, where there was a daily mail and a telegraph office. The contract to carry these letters and messages to and from the mines had been given to Miles's employer, and the steady negro man had been taken off the mail-route to attend to this new business.
"Well, Miles," said Harry, as he overtook him. "How do you like riding on this road?"