The tramp looked puzzled, then suspicious, and then alarmed.
“See here,” he said, “what are you going to work on us, same old charge?”
“Not at all. I want Dick to answer a half dozen questions, that’s all, and then you are both! free to go.”
“Say, let me start to-night!” said the tramp eagerly.
“No, it’s too late,” replied Chase. “There’s no train until morning.”
Andy had overheard all this conversation. Wandering Dick was the name he had heard Chase speak once before, and he had coupled it with the suggestion that in some way Wandering Dick was concerned in the incident of Farmer Jones’ burned-down barn.
Andy slept in a good bed and got up early in the morning, believing that the new day would bring some developments of importance in the situation.
The tramp was started off by Chase, breakfast was over, and Chase had been let out by the turnkey into the main room. He came rushing back in a few minutes carrying an armful of towels for jail use.
“Andy,” he chuckled, throwing his load recklessly on a bench and slapping his young friend gleefully on the shoulder, “You’re free!”