premises, 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 rascal!" thought the tramp. "I'll put a spoke 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 instinctively put his hand in the pocket in
which he kept his wallet.

"Who are you?" he demanded apprehensively.

"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."