“Well, a fellow and I run an automobile to the station and fetch passengers from the trains.” Mr. Duff nodded. “Very often they have trunks and sample cases and things. Why can’t you haul those as well as Connors?”
Mr. Duff viewed his horse thoughtfully for a moment.
“Where to?” he asked at last.
“Why, to the hotel, usually,” replied Willard a trifle impatiently. “What difference does that make? The question is, will you engage to haul our baggage for us at twenty-five cents apiece, if we let you handle it all.”
The expressman flicked the horse gently with a worn-out whip, and remained silent for the space of a minute. Then, “How many would there be?” he inquired suspiciously.
“I don’t know. Some days there might be five or six; other days only one or two, perhaps none at all.”
“Would you pay cash?”
“Of course! We’ll pay as soon as you do the work. But you’ve got to agree to do it quickly. That is, if a trunk comes on the 11:34 you must have it delivered by 12:00 or a little after.”
“I might be busy,” objected Mr. Duff. “’Sides, some of them trunks they has nowadays is pretty heavy for one man to handle. I ain’t as young as I used to be, mister.”
“The station agent will give you a hand with the heavy ones,” said Willard, trying to conceal his exasperation. “Of course, if you don’t want to do it, there’s Connors.”