ramp, "can't you give a poor man a quarter to
help him along?"

"Are you out of work?" asked Chester, staying his step.

"Yes; times is hard and work is scarce. I haven't earned anything for a
month."

"Where do you come from?"

"From Pittsburg," answered the tramp, with some hesitation.

"What do you work at when you are employed?"

"I am a machinist. Is there any chance in that line here?"

"Not in Wyncombe."

"That's what I thought. How about that quarter?"

"I am out of work myself and quarters are scarce with me."

"That's what you all say! There's small show for a good, industrious
man."

Chester thought to himself that if the stranger was a good, industrious
man he was unfortunate in his appearance.

"I have sympathy for all who are out of work," he said. "Mother and I
are poor. When I did work I only got three dollars a week."

"Where did you work?"

"In Mr. Tripp's store, in the center of the village."

"I know. It's a two-story building, ain't it, with a piazza?"

"Yes."

"Has the old fellow got money?"

"Oh, yes; Silas Tripp is rich."

"So? He didn't pay you much wages, though."

"No; he feels poor. I dare say he feels poorer than I do."

"Such men ought not to have money," growled the tramp. "They're keepin'
it out of the hands of honest men. What sort of a lookin' man is this
man Tripp? Is he as big as me?"

"Oh, no, he is a thin, dried-up, little man, who looks as if he hadn't
had a full meal of victuals in his life."

"What time does he shut up shop?"

"About this time," answered Chester, rather puzzled by the tramp's
persistence in asking questions.

"What's your name?"

"Chester Rand."

"Can't you give me a quarter? I'm awful hungry. I ain't had a bit to
eat since yesterday."

"I have no money to give you, but if you will come to our house I'll
give you some supper."

"Where do you live?"

"About five minutes' walk."

"Go ahead, then; I'm with you."

Mrs. Rand looked up with surprise when the door opened and Chester
entered, followed by an ill-looking tramp, whose clothes were redolent
of tobacco, and his breath of whisky.

"Mother," said Chester, "this man tells me that he hasn't had anything
to eat since yesterday."

"No more I haven't," spoke up the tramp, in a hoarse voice.

"He asked for some money. I could not give him that, but I told him we
would give him some supper."

"Of course we will," said Mrs. Rand, in a tone of sympathy. She did not
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