"I shouldn't have thought him so troublesome. He looks very quiet."
"You can't judge from appearances," said Mr. Huxter, shaking his head. "He don't show out before folks. So, if any letters are put in directed to Hampton, just keep them, and I'll look them over. If they're proper to send, I will let them go."
"He wrote a letter here this morning."
"Did he?" asked Mr. Huxter, his eyes sparkling. "The young rascal's prompt. It's lucky I came in. He was cunning enough to write here, that I might not know anything about it. Let me see the letter."
The clerk, not doubting Mr. Huxter's authority, handed him the letter.
He broke it open hastily, and read it. It is needless to say that John's description of himself, though moderately expressed, was far from complimentary, and Mr. Huxter's heart was stirred with indignation.
"The young rascal shall pay for this," he thought.
"This letter is not fit to send," he said, aloud. "It would only make trouble. I will take charge of it. The boy needn't know but it is gone. You may take any letter he brings; but mind you don't send it till I have seen it."
"Very well," said the clerk; but he could not help pitying John, if he was to be under Mr. Huxter's guardianship. In a small village like Jackson every man's failings were a matter of general knowledge, and the estimation in which Mr. Huxter was held was not very high.