"Down to the village? Why, yes, I wouldn't wonder. Say! you're a Lumley,
ain't you?"

"Why! why--yes, I be! How'd you know that? Ain't ever seen you afore,
have I?"

"Guess not," with a quiet chuckle. "I've never seen you, either, but
I've seen your nose. I'd know a Lumley nose if I run across it in
China."

The possessor of the "Lumley nose" rubbed that organ in a bewildered
fashion. Recovering in a measure he laughed, rather half-heartedly, and
begged to know if the trunk, then being unloaded from the baggage car,
belonged to his prospective passenger. As the answer was an affirmative
nod, he secured the trunk check and departed, still rubbing his nose.

When he returned, with the trunk on the truck, he found the stranger,
with his hands in his pockets, standing before Dan'l Webster and gazing
at that animal with an expression of acute interest.

"Is this your--horse?" demanded the newcomer, pausing before the final
word of his question.

"It's so cal'lated to be," replied Gabe, with dignity.

"Hum! Does he work nights?"

"Work nights? No, course he don't!"

"Oh, all right! Then you can wake him up with a clear conscience. I