It is enough to say that it had a direct bearing on his employer’s plans, and the boy managed to obtain all the necessary information to be got.
“Now for Chicago and home,” said Vance, in a happy frame of mind, after he had boiled down his statistics in a succinct letter to Mr. Whitemore and sent it off.
The boy uttered these words as he was coming out of the postoffice, which was located on the corner of two streets.
Immediately preceding him was a tall and commanding man, with a swarthy complexion and black eyes.
Vance had noticed him inside posting a letter.
He wore a soft felt hat of generous proportions, and his manner was the free and easy way of the wide west.
The boy stopped and watched him with some curiosity as he started to cross the street.
At that moment a noisy racket arose around the corner, and there suddenly came into view a team of horses attached to a heavy wagon of produce.
Evidently the animals were frightened, and were dashing about in a blind, purposeless race.
The stranger was right in their path, and seeing his peril, he sprang back.