“Nay, friend, I think I shall tarry a day or two. Is that lad thy son?”
“Tony, he asks if you are my son,” said James, laughing. “No, his name is Tony Rugg, while mine is James Woodley.”
“Anthony, was thee born in this town?” asked the tramp, boldly defying detection.
No, sir,” answered Tony. “I only came here a few weeks ago.”
“I’d like to choke the boy. I can hardly keep my hands off him,” thought Rudolph. “But I’d better be going. He is looking at me closely.”
“Good-night,” he said, and the two responded civilly.
Well, Tony, what do you think of Broadbrim?”
“I don’t know, there’s something in his voice that sounds familiar to me.”
“Perhaps you may have met him somewhere.”
“No; I never met any Quaker before.”