It will be remembered that the young hunter who had assisted the wounded Ransom Vane, was hailed on his way to the village by the tramp, who has so far occupied a prominent place in this narrative.
A curious smile flitted over the face of the hunter as he looked at the ragged creature before him.
"I am glad to see you, Andrew," said the tramp, extending his hand.
"Are you?"
The hunter refused to touch the dirty paw extended toward him.
"Won't you shake?"
"No. You have made a mistake. I am not Andrew Barkswell."
"Not Andrew Barkswell?"
"No."
"Who then?"