“If his father had been of the sane mind when he was a boy, he would never have become a rich man.”

“Was Squire Davenport a poor boy?”

“Yes, so uncle told me the other day.  When he was a boy he worked on a farm.  I don’t know how he made his money, but I presume he laid the foundation of his wealth by hard work.  So, Tom hasn’t any right to look down upon those who are beginning now as his father began.”

They had by this time traversed half the distance from the Town Hall to the young lady’s home.  The subject of conversation was changed and they began to talk about the evening’s entertainment.  At length they reached the minister’s house.

“Won’t you come in, Ben?” asked Rose.

“Isn’t it too late?”

“No, uncle always sits up late reading, and will be glad to see you.”

“Then I will come in for a few minutes.”

Ben’s few minutes extended to three-quarters of an hour.  When he came out, the moon was obscured and it was quite dark.  Ben had not gone far when he heard steps behind him, and presently a hand was laid on his shoulder.

“Hello, boy!” said a rough voice.

Ben started, and turning suddenly, recognized in spite of the darkness, the tramp who had attempted to rob him during the day.  He paused, uncertain whether he was not going to be attacked, but the tramp laughed reassuringly.

“Don’t be afraid, boy,” he said.  “I owe you some money, and here it is.”

He pressed into the hand of the astonished Ben the dollar which our hero had given him.

“I don’t think it will do me any good,” he said.  “I’ve given it back, and now you can’t say I robbed you.”

“You are a strange man,” said Ben.

“I’m not so bad as I look,” said the tramp.  “Some day I may do you a service.  I’m goin’ out of town to-night, and you’ll hear from me again some time.”

He turned swiftly, and Ben lost sight of him.

CHAPTER VII THE TRAMP MAKES ANOTHER CALL

My readers will naturally be surprised at the tramp’s restitution of a coin, which, though counterfeit, he would probably have managed to pass, but this chapter will throw some light on his mysterious conduct.

When he made a sudden exit from Mrs. Barclay’s house, upon the appearance of the squire and his friend, he did not leave the premises, but posted himself at a window, slightly open, of the room in which the widow received her new visitors.  He listened with a smile to the squire’s attempt to force Mrs. Barclay to sell her house.

“He’s a sly old rascal!” thought the tramp.  “I’ll put a spoke in his wheel.”

When the squire and his wife’s cousin left the house, the tramp followed at a little distance.  Not far from the squire’s handsome residence Kirk left him, and the tramp then came boldly forward.

“Good-evenin’,” he said familiarly.