“Can you direct me to the cable station?” he asked. “Sure thing!” said the youth, and there was no Cape Cod twist to his accent. “Git aboard.” “I didn't intend to ride,” said the stranger. “What was you goin' to do? Walk?” “Yes, if it's not far.” The boy grinned, and the members of the committee, who had been staring with all their might, grinned also. The young man's mention of the cable station seemed to have caused considerable excitement. “Oh, it ain't too FAR!” said the stage-driver. Then he added: “Say, you're the new electrician, ain't you?” The young man hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “Yes,” and suggested, “I asked the way.” “Two blocks to the right; that's the main road, keep on that for four blocks, then turn to the left, and if you keep on straight ahead you'll get to the station.” “Blocks?” The stranger smiled. “I think you must be from New York.” “Do you?” inquired the youthful prodigy, climbing to the wagon seat. “Don't forget to keep straight ahead after you turn off the main road. Git dap! So long, fellers!” He leaned over the wheel, as the stage turned, and bestowed a wink upon the delighted “Squealer,” who was holding one freckled paw over his mouth; then the “depot wagon” creaked away. The square-shouldered young man looked after the equipage with an odd expression of countenance. Then he shrugged his shoulders, picked up the suitcase, and walked off the platform into the darkness. Mr. Wixon removed the hand from his mouth and displayed a mammoth grin, that grew into a shriek of laughter in which every member of the committee joined. “Haw! haw!” bellowed “Bluey,” “so that's the feller that done Parker out of his job! Well, he may be mighty smart, but if that Joe Bartlett ain't smarter then I'm a skate, that's all! Smartest boy ever I see! 'If you keep on straight ahead you'll git to the station!' Gosh! he'll have to wear rubbers!” “Maybe he's web-footed,” suggested Smalley, and they laughed again.