“Andy Nelson.”
“I’ll remember that,” said the man, repeating it over twice to himself. “You’ll see me again some time, Andy Nelson, even if I have to hunt you up. You’ve done me a big favor. You said you were headed for the city?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, if you’ll follow back to the river, and cut south a mile, you’ll come to a road running in that direction.”
“Aren’t you going to use the barge any farther, mister?” inquired Andy.
“No, and perhaps you had better not, either,” answered the man, with a short nervous laugh.
“Well, this is a queer go!” ruminated Andy, as the man started inland and was soon lost to view. “I wonder who he is? Probably on his way to some friends where he can get rid of those handcuffs. Now, what for myself?”
Andy thought things out in a rational way, and was soon started on the tramp. His prospective destination was the city. It was a large place, with many opportunities for work, he concluded. He would be lost from his pursuers in a big city like that, he theorized.
Andy soon located the road his late passenger had indicated. He looked at the watch a good many times. It was a plain but substantial timepiece. It was the first watch Andy had ever owned, and he took great pleasure in its possession.
“I don’t think I’ll part with it,” he said, as he tramped along. “I feel certain I can pick up enough odd jobs on my way to the city to earn what clothing I need and enough to eat.”