"I wanted to say that you will no doubt see the wisdom of my advice before you get home." "If that is all you have to say to me farther, Mr. Calvert," said our hero, somewhat sharply, "I will bid you good-night! My name is at stake in this matter, and I will know the right and the wrong of it before I am driven out." The postboy spoke more sharply than he intended, but the other's last words had cut like a knife. Without waiting for a reply, he touched the horse smartly with the spurs and sped down the road at a furious pace. "I should know he was a Lewis if I hadn't heard his name," muttered the mail contractor, as he watched the boyish rider out of sight. "I ought to have known better than to have let him fool with the business at the outset, but Rimmon said he could do it. Well, I must get ready for my start to the capital." His hopes crushed, so far as expecting any aid from Mr. Calvert was concerned, Little Snap pursued his homeward journey with a gloomy mind. Since midnight the sky had become overcast, so it was quite dark—too dark for him to note his surroundings with any clearness. The ride back as far as Mr. Renders' seemed shorter than he had expected, and he found that gentleman awaiting his coming. "You went pretty quick, but Jim don't show his journey a bit. I tell you that horse can't be beat very easy. Pay? I don't want a red cent. I have fed your horses, so they are all right to start. How'd you find Calvert? He's cranky sometimes, but a fairly good sort of a fellow as men go. Wish he might go to Congress rather than that old Warfield. Never liked that old duffer; he's deceitful. Nothing of that kind about Cal. Hello! Starting?" While Mr. Renders had been running on in his sort of haphazard way, Little Snap had put the saddle on Jack's back and sprung into the seat. "I wish you would take pay for the use of your horse, Mr. Renders, but if you won't, I am a thousand times obliged to you, and I hope I can do you a favor some time. Good-night." "He's right after his business!" said the other to himself, as the clatter of horses' hoofs died out in the distance. "That boy is bound to succeed." Riding swiftly homeward, Little Snap was saying to his dumb companions: "I have to fight my own battles, and this trip has been for nothing. No; not for nothing, for I know just what to do now. You needn't crowd on quite so hard, Jack; we have plenty of time." Shifting from one animal to the other when he thought best, Little Snap rode on through the night, unmindful of the gathering stormclouds, though he kept a sharp gaze as he drew near the lonesome spot where he had been accosted by the stranger. Not a sound broke the deathlike silence, save the dull tramp of his horses' feet, and with a feeling of relief he had soon left the place a mile behind. At Greenbrier the postboy shifted steeds, giving Jack another rest, intending to return to him at Daring's Diamond.