“I suppose there is no fear of your having to fight burglars,” said Mrs. Gordon. “No burglary has been known here for years.”
“No, I suppose not,” answered Andy. “I shan’t have any chance to show off my bravery.”
He might have come to a different opinion if he had seen the villainous-looking tramp, who, skulking near the house, had heard, through the open window, the first and most important part of the conversation.
CHAPTER XII.
MIKE HOGAN.
In the summer season not a few of the desperate characters who, at other times, lurk in the lanes and alleys in our cities, start out on vagabond tramps through the country districts.
Mike Hogan was a fit representative of this class. He was a low-browed ruffian, with unkempt hair and a beard of a week’s growth, with a look in his eyes that inspired distrust.
He was physically strong, and abundantly able to work, but preferred to dispense with labor, and live on the credulity or the fears of his fellow men.
Mike had served a term at Sing Sing, but punishment in no way altered his way of life. If anything, it confirmed him in his opposition to the law and his worthless habits.
He had been on the tramp now for two weeks, and accident had brought him to the neighborhood of Hamilton a couple of days before.