The speaker rose so nearly from the middle of the road that Jack had to shy in order to avoid running over him.
"I can't go no farther, mister! so please have pity on me."
Owing to the thick growth by the roadside, it was too dark for the boy rider to distinguish the features of the stranger. He was a burly framed man, and seemed to be shabbily dressed. He carried a short, heavy stick, whether for a cane or a weapon of defense Little Snap had no time to consider.
"You have a spare horse," continued the other, without giving the postboy opportunity to reply to him. "Let me ride him, and you'll do the greatest favor of your life. It is a case of got to with me, or I would not ask it. I am on my way to see a dying mother, and I have walked till I can't get one foot ahead of the other any longer."
He had caught hold of Jack's rein, for Little Snap had put a bridle on the horse before starting, and he was in the act of climbing into the saddle.
"Hold on, sir!" exclaimed Dix Lewis, sharply. "I do not doubt your honesty——"
"It's a case of must, mister! Let me ride him if for only a mile. He's doing you no good."
"I have got a long journey ahead—so long that I must have him fresh to help me get there. I am sorry to refuse you."
"It's such a small thing I ask of you, and you can do it just as well as not. Think if your mother was dying and you were thirty miles from her, and you should ask a man to let you ride a spare horse he had to see her. I will give you a hundred dollars if you will let me ride ten miles."
Uttered in a pleading, earnest tone, the words touched the postboy's heart.