Here was a disclosure for John. He had understood that he was to board with Mr. Huxter. Now it appeared that the latter intended to set him to work. Had he any authority for doing so, and what was John's duty under the circumstances. He wished earnestly that he were able to consult Squire Selwyn without delay, and this reminded him that his letter had not yet gone. It would be useless to leave it again at the village post-office. It must go from some other. John had all the afternoon before him, and if the next town were not too far off, he determined to walk over and post his letter there. Not wishing Mr. Huxter to have any clue to his plans, he decided to obtain the necessary information, not from Mrs. Huxter, though he did not doubt her willingness to give it, but from some other person.
He went out into the road, and began to walk slowly in a direction opposite to that which he had taken in the morning. It was the stage road he knew, and was probably the most direct route to the next town.
Our hero had walked about three-quarters of a mile, when he heard a loud clattering sound behind him. Turning around, he saw a farm-wagon, driven by a boy of about his own age. It was but little past noon, and the walk which might be a long one was sure to be a hot one. As the boy-driver appeared to be alone, and there was plenty of room for another, John hailed him.
"Hallo!" he called out. "Hold on a minute."
"Whoa!" shouted the boy, and brought his horse to a stop.
"Are you going to the next village?" inquired John.
"To Milbank, you mean?"
"Yes," said John, who was not quite sure whether he meant it or not, but was willing to take the risk.
"Yes, I'm going there. Don't you want a ride?"
"That's just what I was going to ask. I'm willing to pay for it."