Guy Rivers | Page 7

stranger, before he resorted to any
desperate issues. He replied, accordingly, to the requisition of the
speaker; the manner, rather than the matter of which, had proved
offensive.
"Toll! You ask toll of me! By what right, sir, and for whom do you
require it?"
"Look you, young fellow, I am better able to ask questions myself, than
to answer those of other people. In respect to this matter of answering,
my education has been wofully neglected."
The reply betrayed some intelligence as well as insolence. Our traveller

could not withhold the retort.
"Ay, indeed! and in some other respects too, not less important, if I am
to judge from your look and bearing. But you mistake your man, let me
tell you. I am not the person whom you can play your pranks upon with
safety, and unless you will be pleased to speak a little more respectfully,
our parley will have a shorter life, and a rougher ending, than you
fancy."
"It would scarcely be polite to contradict so promising a young
gentleman as yourself," was the response; "but I am disposed to believe
our intimacy likely to lengthen, rather than diminish. I hate to part
over-soon with company that talks so well; particularly in these woods,
where, unless such a chance come about as the present, the lungs of the
heartiest youth in the land would not be often apt to find the echo they
seek, though they cried for it at the uttermost pitch of the pipe."
The look and the language of the speaker were alike significant, and the
sinister meaning of the last sentence did not escape the notice of him to
whom was addressed. His reply was calm, however, and his mind grew
more at ease, more collected, with his growing consciousness of
annoyance and danger. He answered the stranger in a vein not unlike
his own.
"You are pleased to be eloquent, worthy sir--and, on any other occasion,
I might not be unwilling to bestow my ear upon you; but as I have yet
to find my way out of this labyrinth, for the use of which your
facetiousness would have me pay a tax, I must forego that satisfaction,
and leave the enjoyment for some better day."
"You are well bred, I see, young sir," was the reply, "and this forms an
additional reason why I should not desire so soon to break our
acquaintance. If you have mistaken your road, what do you on
this?--why are you in this part of the country, which is many miles
removed from any public thoroughfare?"
"By what right do you ask the question?" was the hurried and
unhesitating response. "You are impertinent!"

"Softly, softly, young sir. Be not rash, and let me recommend that you
be more choice in the adoption of your epithets. Impertinent is an ugly
word between gentlemen of our habit. Touching my right to ask this or
that question of young men who lose the way, that's neither here nor
there, and is important in no way. But, I take it, I should have some
right in this matter, seeing, young sir, that you are upon the turnpike
and I am the gate-keeper who must take the toll."
A sarcastic smile passed over the lips of the man as he uttered the
sentence, which was as suddenly succeeded, however, by an expression
of gravity, partaking of an air of the profoundest business. The traveller
surveyed him for a moment before he replied, as if to ascertain in what
point of view properly to understand his conduct.
"Turnpike! this is something new. I never heard of a turnpike and a gate
for toll, in a part of the world in which men, or honest ones at least, are
not yet commonly to be found. You think rather too lightly, my good
sir, of my claim to that most vulgar commodity called common sense,
if you suppose me likely to swallow this silly story."
"Oh, doubtless--you are a very sagacious young man, I make no
question," said the other, with a sneer--"but you'll have to pay the
turnpike for all that."
"You speak confidently on this point; but, if I am to pay this turnpike,
at least, I may be permitted to know who is its proprietor."
"To be sure you may. I am always well pleased to satisfy the doubts
and curiosity of young travellers who go abroad for information. I take
you to be one of this class."
"Confine yourself, if you please, to the matter in hand--I grow weary of
this chat," said the youth with a haughty inclination, that seemed to
have its effect even upon him with whom he spoke.
"Your question is quickly answered. You have heard of the Pony
Club--have you not?"

"I must confess my utter