"Sam, do you think it is the fellow called Merrick?" he exclaimed.
"Doesn't he look like it?"
"He certainly does—now you speak of it," came from Tom. "And, by the way, don't you remember about that envelope picked up in the log cabin? It was postmarked Ithaca."
"So it was! Perhaps this Merrick lives here."
"Let us go over and get a closer look at him," said Dick, and left his seat, followed by the others.
There was a large crowd, so they had some difficulty in making their way to where the man was located. In his haste, Dick bumped against a waiter selling lemonade and spilled the contents of two glasses on the ground.
"Excuse me," he said.
"Hi! you've got to pay for the lemonade," roared the waiter, angrily. "You pay up, you clumsy clown!"
"See here, my man, I'll pay you, but I want you to understand you can't call me a clown," said Dick, angrily.
"Ah! go on wid yer! Pay up, see?"