Then to the farmer: “I am tired. Let me into your carriage.”
“There is no room,” said the farmer nervously.
“Then tell the Quaker to get out and I will take his place.”
Ezekiel Mason was by no means a brave man and he did not know what to say to this impudent proposal.
He looked appealingly at Luke.
“I will accommodate the gentleman,” said the latter meekly. With the words he rose from his seat and jumped to the ground.
“Shall I assist thee?” he asked the stranger in a mild voice.
“No; I am quite capable of getting into the carriage without help.”
The stranger did not immediately get into the buggy.
“I don’t care to ride, after all,” he said coolly. “Just hand me your money, you old clodhopper.”