“No; a young friend,” answered Jennings, briefly.
“Goin’ to visit you?”
“Yes, I think he will stay with me for a time.”
Then the conversation touched upon Milford matters in which at present Carl was not interested.
After his fatiguing walk our hero enjoyed the sensation of riding. The road was a pleasant one, the day was bright with sunshine and the air vocal with the songs of birds. For a time houses were met at rare intervals, but after a while it became evident that they were approaching a town of considerable size.
“Is this Milford, Mr. Jennings?” asked Carl.
“Yes,” answered the little man, turning with a pleasant smile.
“How large is it?”
“I think there are twelve thousand inhabitants. It is what Western people call a ‘right smart place.’ It has been my home for twenty years, and I am much attached to it.”
“And it to you, Mr. Jennings,” put in the driver.