“Then I don’t know whether or not the owner of these woods would consent to your leaving your father’s property here,” replied Prescott, as he turned on his heel.

Dr. Hewitt had watched the scene with a good deal of amusement.  Now the physician turned to see whether his patient were as comfortable as possible.

“My man,” said the doctor, to the boss tramp, “you hold my patient as comfortably and skillfully as though you had once been a nurse.  Were you ever one?”

“No, sir,” replied the tramp.  “It just comes natural.”

“I’ve been looking for a man to work for me,” continued Dr. Hewitt, regarding the tramp with calculating eyes.  “I believe that you’ve got in you the making of a real man if you’d only stop being a tramp.  How would you like to try it out?”

“I dunno,” replied the boss tramp, looking a bit staggered.

“If you go to work for me, I don’t want you to take it up as a casual experiment,” went on the man of medicine.  “I haven’t any time for experiments.  But, if you’ll declare positively that you’re going to make a useful man of yourself, and that you’ll live up to what I expect of you, I’ll take you on.  I won’t have an idler about my place, and I won’t tolerate any use of alcohol.  If you shirk or drink—–­even once out you go.  But I’ll start you at ten dollars a month and board, and raise you—–­if I keep you—–­two dollars a month until you’re getting thirty dollars a month and board as a steady thing.  Are you man enough to take me up, and to make it worth my while to take you on?”

“Yes,” replied the boss tramp huskily, after a struggle with himself.

“All right, then, we’ll see how much a man you are.  By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jim Joggers,” replied the tramp.

Dr. Hewitt eyed the fellow keenly for a few seconds, before he replied, with a slight smile: 

“All right; we’ll let it go at Joggers until you’ve put yourself far enough forward so that you’ll be willing to use your own name.”

Honk! honk!  The car was under way.

When Dick and his three friends turned back to the tent they found all three of the remaining tramps in there, smoking vile pipes and playing with a greasy, battered pack of cards.  “The weather’s fine again,” announced Dick, “and you’ll find us the most hospitable fellows you ever met.  My friends, we take pleasure in offering you the whole outside world in which to play!”

“Talk United States!” growled one of the tramps, without looking up from the game.

“Tom,” laughed Prescott, turning to Reade, “strange dialects are your specialty.  Kindly translate, into ‘United States,’ what I have just said to these men.”

“I will,” agreed Tom.  “Attention, hoboes!  Look right at me!  That’s right.  Now—–­git!”

“You might let us stay on a bit longer,” grumbled one of the tramps.  “We ain’t bothering you folks any.”