said the man,
and in some fear Clarence edged away from him.

It was evident that this shabby-looking stranger had not a proper
respect for those who were in a higher station.

"I will tell him not to give you anything," continued Clarence.

"Like father, like son," said the stranger thoughtfully, apparently
not disturbed by the boy's threats.

Evidently he was no common tramp, or he would have been more
respectful to the son of the man from whom he was probably about to
ask a favor.

"You just wait till you see my father. He'll give you a lecture that
you won't soon forget."

"You'd better get on your wheel, boy, and go right along," said the
stranger calmly.

"Do you know where my father lives?"

"Yes, at yonder fine house. I see him sitting out on the piazza. Shall
we go along together?"

"No, I don't keep such company as you. Tramps are not my style."

"And yet some day you may be as poor and friendless as myself."

"That isn't very likely; my father is a very rich man."

"I knew him when he was poor."

More and more puzzled by the independent manner of this shabby
stranger, Clarence made a spurt, and soon found himself in the grounds
of his father's house.

"With whom were you talking, Clarence?" asked Stephen Ray, as his son
joined him on the piazza.

"One of the most impudent tramps I ever came across," answered
Clarence. "He made an attack upon me, and pulled me from my bicycle."

Stephen Ray's cheek flamed with anger. An insult to his son was an
insult to him.

"Why did he do this? How dared he?" he demanded angrily.

"Because I happened to touch him as I passed," answered Clarence.

"He actually pulled you from your bicycle?" asked Stephen Ray, almost
incredulous.

"Yes."

"I should like to meet him. I should feel justified in ordering his
arrest."

"You will have a chance to meet him. He told me he was going to call
upon you there he is now, entering the gate."

Stephen was glad to hear it. He wanted to empty the vials of his wrath
on the audacious offender. He prided himself on his grand manner.

He was accustomed to seeing men of the stamp of this stranger quail
before him and show nervous alarm at his rebukes. He had no doubt that
his majestic wrath would overwhelm the shabby outcast who had
audaciously assaulted his son and heir.

He rose to his feet, and stood the personification of haughty
displeasure as the poor man, who dared his anger, walked composedly up
the path