"What do you want?" asked the lad, with an air of bravery which he was far from feeling, as he halted within two or three rods of the unexpected guest, ready to retreat if it should become necessary.
"I want you to keep a civil tongue in your head," was the answer, in a harsh rasping voice.
"I didn't mean to be uncivil," was the truthful reply of Fred, who believed in courtesy to every one.
"Who lives here, then?" asked the other in the same gruff voice.
"My mother, Mrs. Mary Sheldon, and myself, but my mother isn't at home."
The stranger was silent a moment, and then looking around, as if to make sure that no one was within hearing, asked in a lower voice:
"Can you tell me where the Miss Perkinpines live?"
"Right over yonder," was the response of the boy, pointing toward the house, which was invisible in the darkness, but a star-like twinkle of light showed where it was, surrounded by trees and shrubbery.
Fred came near adding that he was on his way there, and would show him the road, but a sudden impulse restrained him.
The tramp-like individual peered through the gloom in the direction indicated, and then inquired: