“I don't know about that;” said Mr. Bartlett quickly. “I guess it's going to be a right smart while before we hit on anything to beat hosses; the railroads is all right as far as they go, but the stages is here to stay. I reckon folks will always be in a hurry for the mail.”
“Well, I'd hate to think anything would ever interfere with you,” said the stranger with an ugly grin.
“How far did you say you'd come?” inquired Mr. Bartlett casually.
“I allow I didn't say,” said the other briefly.
“I reckon you ain't come any further than Pittsburg,” urged Mr. Bartlett tentatively.
“You reckon not?” and the stranger smiled.
“Philadelphia?” queried the driver.
“No.”
“New York, maybe?” cautiously.
“I been there, but that ain't a patch on the distance I've come.”