When he made a sudden exit from Mrs. Barclay's house, upon the appearance of the squire³ and his friend, he did not leave the premises⁴, but posted himself at a window, slightly open, of the room in which the widow received her new visitors. He listened with a smile to the squire's attempt to force Mrs. Barclay to sell her house.

 

"He's a sly old rascal⁵!" thought the tramp. "I'll put a spoke⁶ in his wheel."

 

When the squire and his wife's cousin left the house, the tramp followed at a little distance. Not far from the squire's handsome residence Kirk left him, and the tramp then came boldly forward.

 

"Good-evenin'," he said familiarly.

 

Squire Davenport turned sharply, and as his eye fell on the unprepossessing figure, he instinctively⁷ put his hand in the pocket in which he kept his wallet.

 

"Who are you?" he demanded apprehensively⁸.

 

"I ain't a thief, and you needn't fear for your wallet," was the reply.

 

"Let me pass, fellow! I can do nothing for you."

 

"We'll see about that!"

 

"Do you threaten me?" asked Squire Davenport, in alarm.

 

"Not at all; but I've got some business with you--some important business."

 

"Then call to-morrow forenoon," said Davenport, anxious to get rid of his ill-looking acquaintance.

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