"Ay, Uncle Saul," was the quick response.
"I wants you, b'y."
Billy Topsail came swiftly down the stair. He was spending a week with his lonely Uncle Saul at Duck Foot Cove. A summons at that hour meant pressing service—need of haste. What was the call? Were they all well at home? He glanced from one man to the other.
"B'y," said Ride, with a gesture towards the mail-bag, "will you carry that bag to Ruddy Cove? Will——"
"Will you carry Her Majesty's mail t' Ruddy Cove?" Arch Butt burst out. His voice thrilled Billy, as he continued: "Her Majesty's mail!"
"'Tis but that black bag, b'y," Ride said quietly. "Will you take it t' Ruddy Cove t'-night? Please yourself about it."
"Ay," said Billy quickly. "When?"
"'Twill be light enough in four hours," said the mailman.
"Go back t' bed, b'y," Ride said. "I'll wake you when 'tis time t' be off."
Five minutes later the boy was sound asleep.