“Halloo yourself,” said the boy by the stove, without changing his position more than was necessary to glance up.
“Has the six o’clock freight gone down yet?”
“Not as I know of; I wish she would be about it; I’ve been waiting on her now an hour after time.”
“Lucky for me she is behind, though; I guess I can catch a ride into town on her, can’t I? I’ve been out to Windmere, and missed the five o’clock mail; I set out to foot it, but it is rather rough walking against this wind; especially when you have to walk on ice. I’d rather be toted in on the freight, than to try it. Do you suppose they will give me a lift?”
“You can sit down and wait, and try for it, if you like,” and the boy glanced toward a three-legged stool.
“I’d give you this chair only it hasn’t any bottom,” he said, with a dreary attempt at a smile.
“The stool is all right. Do you have to wait every night for the freight?”
“No; not much oftener than every other night; it isn’t my business to wait at all, but as often as three times a week the fellow in charge wants me to do that, or something else, after I’m off duty.”
“So you fill up the time with reading; that’s a good idea. What have you here?”
The visitor stooped and picked up the fallen books.