"You haven't informed me who the nabobs are, nor why they choose to be
sidetracked in this forsaken stone-quarry," remarked the stranger,
eyeing the bleak hills around him in the growing light of dawn.

The agent hesitated. His first gruff resentment had been in a manner
disarmed and he dearly loved to talk, especially on so interesting a
subject as "the nabobs." He knew he could astonish the tramp, and the
temptation to do so was too strong to resist.

"It's the great John Merrick, who's got millions to burn but don't light
many bonfires," he began, not very graciously at first. "Two years ago
he bought the Cap'n Wegg farm, over by Millville, an'--"

"Where's Millville?" inquired the man.

"Seven mile back in the hills. The farm ain't nuthin' but cobblestone
an' pine woods, but--"

"How big is Millville?"

"Quite a town. Eleven stores an' houses, 'sides the mill an' a big
settlement buildin' up at Royal, where the new paper mill is jest
started. Royal's four mile up the Little Bill Hill."

"But about the nabob--Mr. Merrick, I think you called him?"

"Yes; John Merrick. He bought the Cap'n Wegg place an' spent summer
'fore last on it--him an' his three gals as is his nieces."