Then Bill shouted to me as I walked down to the gate, looking rather angry I suppose: "I was agoin' to git ye a whole stage-load, to stay all night, but that one'll do ye, I reckon.

Ha, ha!" And off he went, probably fearing that I would throw his passenger up on the top of the stage again.
The new-comer entered the gate.

He was a dark man, with black hair and black whiskers and mustache, and black eyes.

He wore clothes that had been black, but which were now toned down by a good deal of dust, and, as I have said, he carried a black valise.
"Why did you stop here ?" said I, rather inhospitably.

"Don't you know that we do not accommodate--" "Yes, I know," he said, walking up on the piazza and setting down his valise, "that you only take soldiers, sailors, farmers, and mechanics at this house.