Nevis was too wise to urge the point, though he meant, if it could by any means be managed, to get the letter into his hands.
"Well," he assented, "I guess you're right in that."
They drove on to the Calvert homestead, which was rudely built of birch logs sawed in a neighboring bluff, and Nevis sprang down first when an elderly woman with a careworn face appeared in the doorway. The mail-carrier, who followed him more slowly, stood still a moment fumbling in his bag until the woman spoke to him.
"Got something to-day, Steve?"
"I've got it all right," was the answer. "Letter for Lucy. The trouble is to find the thing."
Nevis, standing nearer the house, waited until the man took out an envelope. Then he stretched out his hand, as though willing to save him the trouble of walking up to the door, but the mail-carrier either did not notice the action or was too punctilious in the execution of his duty to deliver the letter to him.
"Here it is, Mrs. Calvert," he said. "Thank you, Mr. Nevis."
He strode away and Nevis turned to the woman with a smile.
"May I come in?" he asked. "I'll leave the horse here; he'll stand quietly."
Mrs. Calvert made no objections, though he noticed that she laid the envelope on a table across the room when he sat down.