“Here!” cried Jerry.  “We don’t want any, tickets!  We want to find the way to Mr. Nathan Seabury’s house, and to learn if there’s a stage which goes there.”

“There is, señor,” replied the agent, yawning, “but I doubt if the driver is here.  He seldom comes to meet the train, as there are very few travelers.  Will it not do to go to Señor Seabury’s to-morrow, or next day, or the day after?”

“Hardly,” replied Jerry, who, as did the other boys, began to appreciate the Mexican habit of saying “mananna” which means “to-morrow,” for the Mexicans have a lazy habit of putting off until to-morrow whatever they have to do to-day.  “We want to go to-day, right away, at once, now!”

“Ah, the señors are Americanos—­ always in a hurry,” answered the agent, but in no unfriendly manner.  “Very well, I will see if Hop Sing has his stage here.”

“Hop Sing?” questioned Ned.

“Yes, señor, he is a Chinaman.  You will find him a very slow and careful driver.”

“Slow?  I guess everything’s slow down here,” said Ned in a low voice.

The agent came leisurely from his office, walked to the end of the platform, and, pointing toward a low shed, remarked: 

“That is where the stage is kept.  I will call, and see if Hop Sing is there.”

Then he called, but in such a low tone, as if he was afraid he might strain his voice, that it did not seem as if he could be heard ten feet away.  Jerry stood it as long as he could and then said: 

“I guess Hop Sing must be taking his noon nap.  I’ll go over and wake him up.”

“Ah, the señor is in a hurry,” and the Mexican agent smiled as though that was a strange thing.  “If he would wait an hour, or perhaps two, Hop Sing might awaken.  Besides, to-morrow—­”

“Not for ours,” said Ned.  “We’ve got to go to-day.”

The agent shrugged his shoulders, and went back into his little office to resume his nap.  Jerry walked over to the shed.

“Hey!  Hop Sing!” he called, as he approached.  “Where’s the stage?”

“Want stage?  Take lide?  All lite!  Me come!  Chop-chop!  Give number one, top-slide lide!” exclaimed a voice, and a small Chinaman jumped down from the stage seat, where, under the shade of the shed he had been sleeping, and began to untie the halters of the mules that were attached to the ram-shackle old vehicle.

“Be lite out!” Hop Sing went on.  “Me glive you click lide.  Me go fast!  You see!  Chop-chop!”

“All right, if the old shebang doesn’t fall apart on the way,” said Jerry with a laugh, as he saw the stage which the Celestial backed out of the shed.  Certainly it looked as if it could not go many miles.

“Come on!” called Jerry to Ned, Bob and the professor, who had remained on the platform.  “I guess it’s safe.  The mules don’t look as if they would run away.”

They piled into the aged vehicle, and Hop Sing, with a quickness that was in surprising contrast to the indolence of the Mexican agent, put their trunks and valises on top.