Farm, and in two weeks the new farmer and his young wife and child were
comfortably located in the old farmhouse. And time had proven that
Quintin had made no mistake in this selection. Each year had enhanced his
opinion of the character and ability of Sparrow; the great farm had never
been so productive, the cattle had never been more thrifty, and the
revenue had never been as large.

Four years had passed, and well might Billy feel quite satisfied as he
stood there in his shirt sleeves at the close of a certain day looking
out over the farm. While he was thus engaged a young man, tall and
slight in appearance and apparently not much more than twenty years of
age, approached. He was lithe and seemingly agile; a thin, brown beard
covered his face, which was cheery indeed, as was the smile which shone
through two big brown eyes. His clothing was well worn, and upon his
shoulders or back was something resembling a soldier's knapsack, while
in his hand he carried a knotty stick. Halting at the gate, where
Sparrow and Nancy and the boy stood, the stranger saluted them with a
courteous bow. "Good evening," he said, "may I inquire how far it is to
the next village?"

"Not more than two miles," was the answer.

"Is there a tavern in the village?" was next asked.

"O, yes, two of them," was Billy's response.

"I'm looking for work," said the stranger. "Do you think I shall be able
to find something to do in the village?"

"What sort of work do you want?" queried Billy with a smile.