Hiram left the store rejoicing at this intelligence, and took his way direct to Joslin's place. Inquiring if that personage was in, he was told yes, but specially engaged. Hiram sat for a full hour, waiting patiently: then he was told to go into the private counting room.
Entering, he beheld a large, overgrown, rough-looking man, about five and thirty, with black hair and eyes, and a coarse, florid complexion, who looked up and nodded carelessly on his entering.
'This is Mr. Joslin, I presume?'
Yes.'
'My name is Meeker, I come from Burnsville—am in the employ of Mr. Burns.'
'Well?'
'I have come down to take a look at York, and knowing you owned half the paper mill, guessed you was a friend of Mr. Burns, and might not object to let some of your folks show me about a little.'
'You don't belong in the mill, then?'
'No; but I've been all over it. It's curious work—paper making.'
'How long are you going to stay here?'