"No; I'm Mr. Wright," answered the man, pleasantly. "Benton lives on the next farm. You will have to turn into the next gateway and go down the lane, as his house stands some distance from the road."
"I was told," explained the lad, "that he wished to hire help, and I hoped to get work there. Could you tell me what the prospect is?"
The man had now reached the boy's side, and was looking him over with evident curiosity.
"Well," he replied, slowly, "I think he wants to get a young fellow for the coming season, and hadn't hired anyone the last I knew. But I guess you must be a stranger in these parts."
"Yes," the lad answered, briefly; and then thanking the man for his information he turned away.
"I thought so," the man called after him, "else you wouldn't want to go there to work."
The boy scarcely gave heed to the remark then; but it was not long before he knew by hard experience the meaning of it.
A quarter of a mile farther on he reached a gate, and passing through it, he hastened down the narrow lane till he came to a long, low, dilapidated house; but in the darkness, which had by this time fallen, he was not able to form any definite idea of his surroundings.
A feeble light came forth from a back window, and guided by this, he found the rear door of the building. To his knock there was a chorus of responses. Dogs barked, children screamed, and above the din a gruff voice shouted:
"Come in!"