Carson Strong!  My heart gave a bound.  This man was speaking of my father.  What did it mean?  What did the tramp know of the events of the past?  As I lay behind the barrels, I earnestly hoped he would go on with his talk.  I had heard just enough to arouse my curiosity.

I was certain that I had never, until that day, seen the man.  What, then, could he have in common with my father?

Instinctively I connected the man with the cause of my father’s imprisonment—­ I will not say downfall, because I firmly believed him innocent.  Why I should do so I cannot to this day explain, but from the instant he mentioned my parent’s name the man was firmly fixed in my memory.

In a few moments Mr. John Stumpy had puffed his pipe out, leaving the place filled with a heavy and vile smoke which gave me all I could do to keep from coughing.  Then he slowly knocked the ashes from the bowl and restored the pipe to his pocket.

“Now I reckon I’m in pretty good trim to go ahead,” he muttered as he arose.  “No use of talking; there ain’t anything like a good puff to steady a man’s nerves.  Was a time when I didn’t need it, but them times are gone, and the least little job on hand upsets me.  Wonder how much that old woman left behind.”

I nearly uttered an ejaculation of astonishment.  Was this man speaking of Mrs. Canby?  What was the job that he contemplated?

Clearly there could be but one answer to that question.  He knew the widow had gone away, and in her absence he contemplated robbing her house.  Perhaps he had overheard her make mention of the money locked up in her desk, and the temptation to obtain possession of it was too strong to resist.

“I’ll have to get rid of that boy and the dog, I suppose,” he went on.  “If it wasn’t for the noise I’d shoot the dog; but it won’t do to arouse the neighborhood.  As for the lad, I reckon the sight of a pistol will scare him to death.”

I was not so sure of that, and I grated my teeth at the thought of my present helplessness.  Had I been free, I am sure I could have escaped easily, and perhaps have had the tramp arrested.

It was an alarming prospect.  Kate was the only occupant of the house, and the nearest neighbor lived a full five hundred feet away.  If attacked in the middle of the night, what would my sister do?

For a moment I felt like exposing myself, but then I reflected that such a course would not liberate me, and he would know that he had nothing to fear from me at the house, whereas, if I kept quiet, he might, by some lucky incident, be kept at bay.

So I lay still, wondering when he would start on his criminal quest.