ot exactly the ones he indicated,
but such as would give him a better choice than either the garret, the
cellar, or the roof. At all events, only three days would now intervene
before the arrival of the two travelers, and everything required for
their reception was pushed forward with all the energy Mrs. Kinzer could
bring to bear. She had promised Ham that his house should be ready for
him, and it was likely to be a good deal more "ready" than either he or
his wife had dreamed of.

CHAPTER XV.

One of the most troublesome of the annoyances which come to dwellers in
the country, within easy reach of the great city, is the kind of
patrolling beggar called the "tramp." He is of all sorts and sizes, and
he goes everywhere, asking for anything he wants, very much as if it
belonged to him, so long as he can ask it of a woman or a sickly-looking
man.

There had been very few of these gentry seen in that vicinity that
summer, for a wonder, and those who had made their appearance had been
reasonably well behaved. Probably because there had been so many
healthy-looking men around, as a general thing. But it came to pass, on
the very day when Ham and Miranda were expected to arrive, by the last
of the evening trains, as Dab Kinzer was coming back from the landing,
where he had been for a look at the "Swallow," to be sure she was all
right for her owner's eyes, that a very disreputable specimen of a
worthless man stopped at Mrs. Kinzer's to beg something to eat, and then
sauntered away down the road.

It was a little past the middle of the afternoon, and even so
mean-looking, dirty a tramp as that had a perfect right to be walking
along then and there. The sunshine and the fresh salt air from the bay
were as much his as anybody's, and so was the water in the bay, and no
one in all that region of country stood more in need of water than he.

The vagabond took his right to the road, as he had taken his other right
to beg his dinner, until, half-way down to the landing, he was met by an
opportunity to do more begging.

"Give a poor feller suthin," he impudently drawled, as he stared
straight into the sweet, fresh face of Annie Foster. Annie had been out
for only a short walk, but she happened to have her pocket-book with
her, and she thoughtlessly drew it out, meaning to give the scamp a
trifle, if only to get rid of him.

"Only a dime, Miss," whined the tramp, as he shut his dirty hand over
Annie's gift. "Come, now, m