“Yes?” said the elder brother, “what was it?”
“Oh, nothing very exciting,” replied Harry, “nothing more than a visit we had from a tramp.”
“From a tramp?” asked Frank wonderingly.
“Yes, he came here to look for a job,” he said.
“And you told him—?”
“That we hadn’t any work, of course, and then, apparently, he went away. But Schultz, when he went over to the house for some tools he’d left there, found that instead of going very far the fellow was up in the wood back there and watching the place with a pair of field-glasses.”
“Whew!” whistled Frank with a long face, “a tramp with field-glasses?—that’s a novelty.”
“I sent Schultz up to tell the man that he was trespassing on private property,” went on Harry, “but as soon as he saw the old fellow coming the tramp made off. He, however, dropped this bit of paper.”
Harry handed his brother a crumpled sheet marked with faint lines. Frank scrutinized the paper carefully and a frown spread on his face.
“This bit of paper, as you call it, Harry,” he said, “is nothing more nor less than a very creditable sketch map of the location of this aerodrome.”