"Do you threaten me?" asked Squire Davenport, in alarm.
"Not at all; but I've got some business with you—some important business."
"Then call to-morrow forenoon," said Davenport, anxious to get rid of his ill-looking acquaintance.
"That won't do; I want to leave town tonight."
"That's nothing to me."
"It may be," said the tramp significantly. "I want to speak to you about the husband of the woman you called on to-night."
"The husband of Mrs. Barclay! Why, he is dead!" ejaculated the squire, in surprise.
"That is true. Do you know whether he left any property?"
"No, I believe not."
"That's what I want to talk about. You'd better see me to-night."