We were not to be frightened by a stage-driver.

The next day our own driver passed us on the road as he was going down.
"So ye're pertickler about the people ye take in, are ye ?" said he, smiling.

"That's all right, but ye made Bill awful mad." It was quite late on a Monday afternoon that Bill stopped at our house again.

He did not call out this time.

He simply drew up, and a man with a big black valise clambered down from the top of the stage.