ere always.

"What are ye goin' to do?" asked the driver, very much interested, for
it was not every day that he had passengers who had lost their
destination. "Ye might go on to Lowry's. He takes boarders sometimes."

But Lowry's did not attract us. An ordinary country-tavern, where
stage-passengers took supper, was not what we came so far to find.

"Do you know where this house o' Dutton's is?" said the driver, to the
man who had once taken either dinner or supper there.

"Oh yes! I'd know the house well enough, if I saw it. It's the fust
house this side o' Lowry's."

"With a big pole in front of it?" asked the driver.

"Yes, there was a sign-pole in front of it."

"An' a long porch?"

"Yes."

"Oh! well!" said the driver, settling himself in his seat. "I know all
about that house. That's a empty house. I didn't think you meant that
house. There's nobody lives there. An' yit, now I come to remember, I
have seen people about, too. I tell ye what ye better do. Since ye're so
set on staying on this side the ridge, ye better let me put ye down at
Dan Carson's place. That's jist about quarter of a mile from where
Dutton used to live. Dan's wife can tell ye all about the Duttons, an'
about everybody else, too, in this part o' the country, and if there
aint nobody livin' at the old tavern, ye can stay all night at Carson's,
and I'll stop an' take you back, to-morrow, when I come along."

We agreed to this plan, for there was nothing better to be done, and,
late in the afternoon, we were set down with our small trunk--for we
were traveling under light weight--at Dan Carson's door. The stage was
rather behind time, and the driver whipped up and left us to settle our
own affairs. He called back, however, that he would keep a good look-out
for us to-morrow.

Mrs. Carson soon made her appearance, and, very naturally, was somewhat
surprised to see visitors with their baggage standing on her little
porch. She was a plain, coarsely dressed woman, with an apron full of
chips and kindling wood, and a fine mind for detail, as we soon
discovered.

"Jist so," she said, putting down the chips and inviting us to seats on
a bench. "Dave Dutton's folks is all moved away. Dave has a good farm
on the other side o' the mountain, an' it never did pay him to keep that
tavern, 'specially as he didn't sell liquor. When he went away, his son
Al come there to live with his wife, an' the old man left a good deal o'
furniture and things f