“I can’t tell,” replied the tramp. “I am waiting for some friends to join me.”
He did not seem to recognize the boys as the ones he had met in the woods recently, or, if he did, he gave no sign of it.
“You said you were prospecting,” Ned added. “Not for gold, are you?”
“Hardly,” replied the ragged man with a smile. “The truth is I am a naturalist. I have heard there is a certain rare kind of butterfly to be found along this river and I am looking for it. It is called the Oiliander Tinicander. Perhaps you have seen it in your travels.”
“Guess we wouldn’t know it if we saw it,” remarked Ned.
“No, it takes years of study to recognize it. But if you will excuse me I think I will sit down.”
He crossed his legs comfortably in front of the plate that had been placed for him, and in a few minutes the dinner was under way. The salt certainly added zest to the fried fish and the boys, as well as the tramp, ate with excellent appetites.
“Best meal I’ve had in a long while,” said the ragged man. “I hope I can return the favor some time.”
“We’ll be happy to call on you,” said Bart, “but we are going to leave this afternoon. We are bound up the river.”