When he had gone a few rods the squirrel jumped to the ground, and with a louder chirp, ran back to rejoin its mates.
"It is the first time in six months, rain or shine, he has failed to be here. I wonder if he is sick?"
He was still thinking of the old hermit, when he was startled by the sudden appearance of a gaunt, stooping figure beside his horse as he began the ascent to the Narrows.
"Don't be skeert, younker," said a harsh, grating voice from the stranger. "We kem es friends. I'm Ab Raggles, an' this hyur is my fust boy, Beeline Raggles."
As he finished speaking a second figure, very similar to the first, save for the changes made by the difference in years, suddenly stepped from the growth by the wayside and unconcernedly stalked on the other side of the postboy.
Little Snap, not knowing what to make of such company, stopped Jack, and facing the older of the singular twain, demanded:
"What do you want?"
"To pay off an ol' debt by befriendin' ye. We wuz off our toes 'bout 'em Burrnocks yesterday, an' we didn't ketch onto their plans in season to help yer this mornin', but mebbe we can do yer a good turn now. The rock ain't out o' th' path up yender."
Notwithstanding the uncouth appearance of the speaker, and his illiterate speech, there was an evidence of honesty in both that did not escape the keen perception of Little Snap.
"In what way can you help me?" he asked.