"You'll excuse me if I don't ask you to join me, youngsters," he went
on to say. "I'd do the same in a jiffy if the supply wasn't limited;
besides, I don't know just what sort of a reception I'm going to meet
with in your town."

"Oh! no apologies needed, old chap," said Thad, quickly. "We had
our lunch only an hour or so ago and couldn't take a bite to save us
now. But say everything seems mighty good, if the smell counts for
much. So pitch right in and fill up. We'll continue to sit here
and chat with you, if you don't mind, Bill."

"That's all right, governor, only my name don't happen to be Bill,
even if I belong to the tribe of Weary Willies. I'm known far and
wide as Wandering Lu; because, you see, I've traveled all over the
whole known world, and been in every country the sun shines on.
Just come from the oil regions down in Texas, because, well, my
health is failing me, and I'm afraid I'm going into a decline."

At that he started to coughing at a most tremendous rate. Thad
looked sympathetic.

"You certainly do seem to have a terribly bad cold, Lu," he told
the tramp, as the other drew out a suspicious looking red handkerchief
that had seen better days, to wipe the tears from his eyes, after he
had succeeded in regaining his breath, following the coughing spell.

The man put a dirty hand in the region of his heart and winced.

"Hurts most around my lungs," he said, "and mebbe I've got the con.