“This is a—terrible day!” exclaimed the judge. “Thought the girl might—be drowned if—she tried to—walk home. So I hitched up the old Ford—and went after her.”
Desiré began to express her gratitude, but he brushed aside her attempts.
“Nothing to it—wanted to see this boy—anyhow,” taking the chair Jack offered him, and glancing up at the tall, broad-shouldered fellow with a smile which, as Priscilla said, made his face “all crinkled.”
“Guess I’ve got—a job for you,” he continued. “Know old man Beaumont?”
Jack shook his head gravely, though his heart rejoiced at the prospect of finding employment at last.
“He’s been postman around here—for—I don’t know how many years. Too old now—but won’t give up; been trying to fix things—so he’d have a helper. Orders came couple of weeks ago—good job for you—if you want it.”
“Want it!” repeated Jack. “You can’t possibly imagine how much I want it.”
“Government furnishes a little wagon—you’ll use one of your own horses—that is until snow gets too deep. Then you’ll have to go on—on snowshoes. Have to go to town—to get your orders—better go now in my Ford.”
So, in an excited bustle, Jack got ready and departed with the judge.
“Don’t worry—about his getting wet,” the judge leaned far out of the car to call to Desiré, who was standing in the doorway, “I’ll bring him—back again.”