"My!" he exclaimed, looking around to see if anybody had noticed his mistake. "How a fellow does forget that he isn't a boy when he's trying to be a girl!"
"Goin' to Miss Linn's?" drawled a voice at Gay's elbow.
A tall, lank man, on whose hatchet-like face an expression of good humor rested as if it belonged there, was standing near, leaning lazily on his whip-handle.
"Yes, I'm going there; I had nearly forgotten it."
"I shouldn't a-let you forget it long. I'm the driver of the stage and I don't let passengers forget to ride with me; that wouldn't be business. Besides, Miss Linn she asked me to look out for you—and I guess you need it—you look lively for a girl."
Gay smiled at this sally. This man was jolly enough to be in a book! If there were others like him a visit to Hazelnook wouldn't be so dull.
"Ready?" asked the driver.
"Yes. That's my box down there—the leather one, and here's the check. I'll help you with the box—I've great muscle."
"Wall! Wall! I ruther guess you're the queerest young lady I ever see! 'Great muscle' have ye? Wall, come along."
Miss Linn's guest helped the driver carry the leather box to the stage. The sight would not have delighted the refined old lady's eyes, but Gay was very well pleased to be of so much assistance, and insisted upon rendering further service in lifting other luggage.