"It's sultry enough for anything," said Tom, taking off his cap and
mopping his forehead. "I'd hate to be walking in this weather like
that fellow yonder."

A man had come into sight, plodding along with bent head and eyes on
the ground as if he was very tired. The gray dust of the road coated
him from head to foot. He walked with a kind of dragging gait.

Over his shoulder he carried some sort of a bundle on a stick. His hat
was a broad sombrero, like a cowboy's. It was a kind of headgear
seldom seen in the east and attracted the boys' attention. Round the
man's neck was a red handkerchief, the only spot of color on his
dust-covered person. He had a great yellow beard and rather long,
unkempt hair.

"Tramp," hazarded Tom.

Jack shook his head.

"Doesn't look like that to me somehow," he said. "I rather think----"

Round the corner whizzed a big red automobile. It was coming fast. The
driver, a young man, had his head turned and was talking to three
companions who sat in the tonneau. He did not see the dusty traveler
in the road ahead.

The boys set up a shout.

"Look out! you'll run him down. Look out----"