The conductor was now on strange ground, but knowing there was an agent in the vicinity named Low, he hunted him up and received such information as enabled them to make a little clump of hemlocks on the bank of a ravine not far from the residence of Elijah Drury, of Girard, the following night.
Farmer Drury was a stalwart, standing little less than six feet in height, always ready for any good word and work, and had been for many years engaged in the transportation business. Always wary, however, he was not to be deceived when, in the morning, our bewhiskered conductor presented himself and asked for something to eat.
“O yes,” said Mr. Drury, “I can always furnish a man, though a stranger, something with which to satisfy hunger.”
“But I want something also for a friend.”
“A friend! What do you mean?”
“I mean that I have a friend down yonder in the thicket, who is both weary and hungry.”
“Mister, do you know what I think?”
“I am not a prophet, sir.”
“Well, it is my opinion that you are a horse thief.”
“Will you come down and see the last nag I trotted off?”