"I don't want to help you in this, Rudolph," said Tony. "I won't betray you, but you mustn't compel me to be a thief."
"I can't get along without you, and help me you must."
"Suppose we fail?"
"Then we must take to our legs. If we're caught we're both in the same box. I don't ask you to take any risk that I don't run myself."
Tony was about to remonstrate further, but it was too late. They had already reached the farm house, and caught sight of the owner standing under a tree in the front yard.
"Remember!" hissed the older tramp. "Follow my lead, or I'll beat you till you are half dead. Good evening, sir."
This last was said in a humble tone to the farmer, who advanced to the gate.
"Good evening," said the farmer, ingeniously.
He was a man of sixty, roughly dressed to suit his work, with grizzled hair, a form somewhat bowed, and a face seamed with wrinkles. He had been a hard worker, and showed abundant traces of it in his appearance.