The stranger smiled as he walked away, and Dan, watching him, saw him take a little red book out of his pocket, and write something in it.
“Do ye know that man?” asked Mr. Savage, turning to Dan, when the stranger was out of sight down the road, which ran in front of the barn.
“No, sir. He came in here and began asking me questions.”
“What kind?”
“About the people and houses in the village.”
“Humph! Some pesky book agent, I’ll bet half a cooky.”
“I don’t know what he was,” replied Dan. “He said he was looking for a friend, and he wanted to know about Mr. Lee’s brother, Simon.”
“That good-for-nothing? Wa’al, ef he’s a friend of Simon Lee, I ain’t got no use fer him. Now you git on with yer work, an’ don’t stand talkin’ here all day. Ye’ve got t’ shell that corn before night, or ye’ll have t’ do it after ye help Mrs. Savage with th’ house work.”
Dan again bent his back to the task, turning the big wheel faster to make up for the time he had lost through no fault of his own. Mr. Savage pocketed the quarter the man had given him, first biting it to see that it was not a lead one.
“When ye git done here I want ye t’ go down t’ th’ south pasture, an’ let th’ old black bull out, an’ inter the upper lot,” he called to Dan, raising his voice to be heard above the noise of the corn sheller. “Ye’ll have t’ be mighty spry, too, fer he’s as ugly as sin, an’ he’ll break out of the pasture ef he git’s a chance.”