"I told them all and I'm sure they have forgiven already."
"Dear father and mother! God bless them both! God have mercy upon me!"
They could not know, but Tony knew. Perhaps that explained the smile on Tony's face, the smile they could not comprehend.
THE TRAMP.
"A pretty tough looking character, that! But I suppose you see a great many just such specimens in this quaint little town of yours."
Father Antony's back was turned to the speaker and for several moments he remained standing at the top of the veranda steps, following with his eyes the slouching figure that had just passed through the gate and was tramping slowly along the county road. Then, with a sigh he returned to his seat and, running his fingers through his hair, remarked half absently:
"Poor fellow, he looked almost exhausted. I tried to persuade him to remain here a little longer and rest for a spell. What a life theirs is! Some of them, of course, really enjoy it, but others——. Ah, me! those poor others. And somehow that tramp who has just left us seems to me to belong to the latter class rather than to the former. But pardon me, Father, what was it you were just saying? I was so interested in my tramp that I failed to catch your words."
"I merely remarked," returned the younger priest, smiling, "that you must see a great many of these nomadic individuals in this quaint little town of yours. I have been here but a week and that is the sixth villainous looking rascal who has presented himself and demanded something to eat."