“Don’t do that, the mare’s willing enough; she’s tired.”
Loramer pulled her up, and let her walk a mile or more, up among the hills; then he turned her and rattled back toward the village, and stopped before his own lodging. He asked Enfield to hold the horse and went in. In a little while he came out and put a valise in the wagon.
“What time does the night train pass?”
“12.05.”
He drove to the station, gave Enfield the reins, and put the valise on the platform, then stood on the step of the wagon.
“Drive the horse to Mitchel’s for me and tell him to send me his bill.”
He lingered a moment, then offered his hand.
“Good-night, Lawrence!”
“Good-night!” and they held each other’s hands firmly but gravely.