Thad heaved a sigh, but did not say anything to the tramp that he may have had in his mind, and which possibly Wandering Lu might have resented. The man had continued his meal and was in something of a reflective frame of mind apparently. Hugh supposed he was wondering what he was going to do after coming so far in hopes of finding a snug nest for the remainder of his idle days, and meeting with a possible disappointment.
“Say, young fellers, I’m going to ask a favor of you,” he suddenly remarked, as he brushed the back of his hand across his mouth, signifying that he had finished his meal, and did this in lieu of using a napkin.
“What is it you want?” asked Thad, a bit ungraciously, it must be confessed.
“Of course, you know just where Matilda lives in Scranton,” observed the man, insidiously; “and mebbe now you wouldn’t mind if I walked along with so you point out her home to me when we get near it?”
“Ought we do it, Hugh?” flashed Thad, turning toward his chum.
“What’s the harm?” asked the other, instantly. “He can soon find it by asking at some house, whether we help him or not. Why, yes, we’ll accommodate you, Lu; but I wouldn’t be too hopeful if I were you, about their asking you to stay over, because the times are out of joint nowadays, food getting higher every day, and money hard to pick up, since Uncle Sam’s just jumped into the big war game.”
“But my sister Matilda she always did have a tender heart, and wouldn’t see a poor stray cat go hungry if so be she had a bite of food,” the tramp went on to say in the most unblushing way possible. “Unless she’s changed a heap she’ll let me stay a while with her anyhow. Mebbe I’ll pick up some if I get good care, and can go on the road again if the worst comes. But I’m much obliged to you for saying as how you’d show me her humble home. It’ll be mighty fine for a poor old rolling stone like me to get under the roof of a blood relative, which ain’t been my luck for over twenty years.”
He hastened to gather his scanty belongings together. When the pack was complete be slung it across his back, and gave Hugh a nod. Somehow even this tramp seemed to understand that Hugh Morgan was the leader among his mates; perhaps it was his expression of firmness that told the story, for there was certainly nothing of the “boss” air about the boy to indicate as much.
“I’m all ready, if you are, younkers,” the tramp said.
“Then we’ll be off,” remarked Hugh, Putting his words into action.
Thad began to wonder what any of their acquaintances would say should they happen to see them in company with Wandering Lu. The tramp looked so utterly disreputable that Thad disliked being discovered with him; and yet Hugh, who looked deeper than his companion, was surprised to notice that this dirt had the appearance of being rather new and fresh. The fact caused him to take further notice of the man, about whom he felt there rested quite a little air of mystery.