"Me live here?" cried the man, as if indignant "Well, hardly! I was
just passing, and, happening to see the old place, and having a
fondness for antiques, I stepped in. But it is in bad shape. I should
say tramps make it their hangout."

"It has that name," said Mark.

There was a pause for a moment, and the lad was a trifle embarrassed.
The man was gazing boldly at him.

"I guess I've made a mistake," thought Mark. "This can't be the man we
want. He doesn't live here, and he doesn't look like him. I'd better be
getting back to meet Jack."

"Are you engaged at anything in particular?" questioned the man taking
a few steps nearer the youth.

"No, I'm not working, but I expect to take a trip, shortly, with some
friends of mine," answered Mark.

"Ah, is that so?" and there was polite inquiry in the man's voice. "Are
you going far?"

"Quite a distance." Mark wondered what the man would say if he told him
he was going to the moon.

"I wonder if you would do me a favor?" went on the man. "As I was
passing through this old house I saw, on one of the outer doors, an
old-fashioned knocker. I am a collector of antiques, and I would very