It is a fact that of two letters deposited in a mail box in the City of New York, at the same time, one addressed to Denver, Colorado, and the other to Hague, Virginia, the former will arrive first at its destination—for the Hague is sixty miles from the nearest railway station, and the river boats do not carry the mails. And this fact will suffice to explain how it was that nothing was known in that locality of the strange doings of Ledger Dinwiddie, in New York. But Nick drove a span of horses from Fredericksburg, sixty miles away; he arrived at Hague at dark; he drove on straight through the one street of the village, and out toward Kingsgift, which is eight miles farther. Hospitality is a watchword through all that part of Virginia. There are no hotels, or inns, or anything of the sort, save only in the larger towns, and they are remote from one another. If a traveler is caught upon the road at dinner time and wants a meal he has only to approach the nearest house, which may stand a mile away from the highway, and ask for it. He gets it, and he must not offer to pay for it, either. The same unwritten law applies to the matter of a night’s lodging—and Nick Carter intended to make the most of it upon his arrival at Kingsgift, and had timed himself accordingly. It was after eight o’clock in the evening when he drove upon the estate, and had still another mile to drive before he could reach the house. In due time he stopped his horses before the door, got down and tied them—and by that time a negro servant was at hand, ready to receive him. “Hello, uncle,” said the detective. “I suppose your master can put me up for the night, can’t he?” “I reckon so, sah,” was the reply. “Mistur Dinwiddie ain’t to home, sah, but dat don’ make no sort uh diff’ence, sah. You is welcome, jes de same. Whar you done come from, sah?” “I am from the North, uncle.” “Hush, chile! Is you, now! Dat mus’ be a won’ful country up dar, sah, from all I hearn tell about it. Jes you walk right into de house, sah; I’ll take care of the hosses—an’ they sure is fine ones. Looks to me like they done come from Fredericksburg. Reckon I’s seen ’em afore, sah.” “Perhaps you have. Is your mistress at home, uncle?” “Well, sah, she ain’t rightly at home, nohow; but den she am at home, too.” “How is that, uncle? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” “It’s dissaway, sah. She says to me, ‘Uncle Henery’—dat’s my name, sah—‘Uncle Henery,’ she says, ‘if any pusson done ask fo’ me, you tol ’em dat I is not at home, ceptin’ it’s sure-nuff home folks what asks, an’ in dat case you can say dat I is at home.’ Dat’s de way in, sah; right dar. Yo’ jes rap on dat do’ and my ol woman’ll opin it fo’ you.” Nick stood still until the negro had led the horses toward the stable, and then he mounted the steps of the wide veranda, and rapped with the metal knocker against the door.