Carl glanced at the speaker.
He was a gray-haired, clean-shaven man, with fresh color and keen blue eyes. Although muffled to the chin in a raccoon coat that almost met the fur of his cap there was a splendid vigor about him that breathed health, energy, and the rewards a temperate life brings. Everything about him seemed clearness personified—eye, complexion, voice.
"I've not lost my way, thank you, sir," Carl answered. "I just got to thinking and have wandered farther from home than I meant to."
"Are you going back to town now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Jump in and I'll give you a lift."
Raising the fur robes invitingly the stranger reached to open the door.
Carl was almost too surprised to speak.
"You're very kind, sir," he contrived to stammer. "I should be glad of a ride. I don't often get one. Besides, I ought to have been at home long ago."
The honesty of the reply apparently pleased the motorist for, smiling, he tucked the lad in and asked: