The occupant of the house proved to be more wakeful than he had expected, for he had barely pulled rein under the enormous willow growing by the door before a chamber window was opened, and a man's voice demanded.
"Who's there?"
"My name is Lewis, and I am from Union Six Roads. Does Mr. Calvert live here?"
"That's my name, sir, though I do not recognize yours."
"I carry the mail on the Kanawha route. Of course, you remember Dix Lewis, to whom you sub-let the line?"
"Wait a minute and I'll be down there."
Giving the finishing touches to his toilet, as he appeared, Mr. Calvert soon opened the heavy door and stepped out into the night.
He was a man in the vicinity of forty, with a frank, good-natured looking countenance, who seemed rather brusque in his movements and manner of speaking.
"I hardly remember your countenance, Mr. Lewis," he said, as he stepped forward and extended his right hand; "but that is nothing strange, as we never met but that once. What in the name of Congress has brought you here at this unexpected hour? But excuse me, dismount, put your horse in the barn, and come into the house before you begin your talk. I would call one of the negroes, but they are so sleepy at this time of night they are no good."
"I can't stop," said Little Snap, as soon as he could find an opportunity to speak. "I have to get back to Six Roads in season to take the mail to the Loop to-day."