Of course part of Driver Jim’s information was not new to Albert, but much of it was, for the Poet’s letters had not been explicit in regard to the increased value of the property, and Charlton had concluded the claim would go out of his hands anyhow, and had ceased to take any further interest in it.

When at last he saw again the familiar balloon-frame houses of Metropolisville, he grew anxious.  How would people receive him?  Albert had always taken more pains to express his opinions dogmatically than to make friends; and now that the odium of crime attached itself to him, he felt pretty sure that Metropolisville, where there was neither mother nor Katy, would offer him no cordial welcome.  His heart turned toward Isa with more warmth than he could have desired, but he feared that any friendship he might show to Isabel would compromise her.  A young woman’s standing is not helped by the friendship of a post-office thief, he reflected.  He could not leave Metropolisville without seeing the best friend he had; he could not see her without doing her harm.  He was thoroughly vexed that he had rashly put himself in so awkward a dilemma; he almost wished himself back in St. Paul.

At last the Superior Being roused his horses into a final dash, and came rushing up to the door of the “City Hotel” with his usual flourish.

“Hooray!  Howdy!  I know’d you’d be along to-night,” cried the Poet.  “You see a feller went through our town—­I’ve laid off a town you know—­called it Charlton, arter her you know—­they wuz a feller come along yisterday as said as he’d come on from Washin’ton City weth Preacher Lurton, and he’d heern him tell as how as Ole Buck—­the President I mean—­had ordered you let out.  An’ I’m that glad!  Howdy!  You look a leetle slim, but you’ll look peart enough when we git you down to Charlton, and you see some of your ground wuth fifteen dollar a front foot!  You didn’ think I’d ever a gin up po’try long enough to sell lots.  But you see the town wuz named arter her you know—­a sorter moniment to a angel, a kind of po’try that’ll keep her name from bein’ forgot arter my varses is gone to nothin’.  An’ I’m a-layin’ myself out to make that town nice and fit to be named arter her, you know.  I didn’t think I could ever stan’ it to have so many neighbors a drivin’ away all the game.  But I’m a-gittin’ used to it.”

Charlton could see that the Inhabitant was greatly improved by his contact with the practical affairs of life and by human society.  The old half-crazed look had departed from his eyes, and the over-sensitive nature had found a satisfaction in the standing which the founding of a town and his improved circumstances had brought him.

“Don’t go in thar!” said Gray as Charlton was about to enter the room used as office and bar-room for the purpose of registering his name.  “Don’t go in thar!” and Gray pulled him back.  “Let’s go out to supper.  That devilish Smith Wes’cott’s in thar, drunk’s he kin be, and raisin’ perdition.  They turned him off this week fer drinkin’ too steady, and he’s tryin’ to make a finish of his money and Smith Wes’cott too.”