THE EXCISEMAN



Harry Chatswood, mail contractor (and several other things), was
driving out from, say, Georgeville to Croydon, with mails, parcels,
and only one passenger--a commercial traveller, who had shown himself
unsociable, and close in several other ways. Nearly half-way to a
place that was half-way between the halfway house and the town,
Harry overhauled "Old Jack," a local character (there are many
well-known characters named "Old Jack") and gave him a lift as a
matter of course.

"Hello! Is that you, Jack?" in the gathering dusk.


"Yes, Harry."

"Then jump up here."

Harry was good-natured and would give anybody a lift if he could.

Old Jack climbed up on the box-seat, between Harry and the traveller,
who grew rather more stand- (or rather _sit_-) offish, wrapped
himself closer in his overcoat, and buttoned his cloak of silence and
general disgust to the chin button. Old Jack got his pipe to work and