I was just locking the door of the carriage-house, when Pomona came
running to me to tell me that the tramp wanted to see me about
something very important--just a minute, he said. I put the key in
my pocket and walked over to the tree. It was now almost dark, but
I could see that the dog, the tramp, and the tree still kept their
respective places.

"Look-a-here," said the individual in the crotch, "you don't know
how dreadful oneasy these limbs gits after you've been settin up
here as long as I have. And I don't want to have nuthin to do with
no constables. I'll tell you what I'll do if you'll chain up that
dog, and let me go, I'll fix things so that you'll not be troubled
no more by no tramps."

"How will you do that?" I asked.

"Oh, never you mind," said he. "I'll give you my word of honor
I'll do it. There's a reg'lar understandin' among us fellers, you
know."

I considered the matter. The word of honor of a fellow such as he
was could not be worth much, but the merest chance of getting rid
of tramps should not be neglected. I went in to talk to Euphemia
about it, although I knew what she would say. I reasoned with
myself as much as with her.

"If we put this one fellow in prison for a few weeks," I said, "the
benefit is not very great. If we are freed from all tramps, for
the season, the benefit is very great. Shall we try for the
greatest good?"