“That’s queer,” commented Ralph. “That man actually ran away from me.”
“Ma has gone after pa,” lisped a little urchin in the kitchen. “Man wants to see him. What for funny man run away?”
Ralph hurried past the infantile questioner and after the object of his curiosity.
“Yes, the man did look funny, for a fact,” said Ralph. “He was disguised. There he is. Hey, there! whoever you are, a word with you.”
He was now in close pursuit of a scurrying figure. The object of his curiosity turned to look at him, stumbled, and went headlong into a ditch.
Ralph came to the spot. The man lay groaning where he had fallen.
“Help me,” he muttered—“I’m nearly stunned.” 32
“Why!” exclaimed Ralph as he assisted the man to his feet, “it is Gasper Farrington.”
It was the village magnate, disguised. He stood regarding Ralph with savage eyes.
“I thought you had gone to Europe, Mr. Farrington,” said Ralph.