“I'll leave town and never come back—I will, on my honor!” pleaded the tramp, earnestly.
“I don't put any confidence in what you say. Ah, here's the rope. Now, hold still, if you know what's best for yourself.”
The tramp attempted resistance, but a little vigorous shaking up by his captor soon brought him to terms. In five minutes, with his hands and feet firmly tied, he was on his way to the lock-up. Mr. Gregory and Walter accompanied him in the wagon.
“Now, Mr. Sherwood,” said Gregory, when their errand was completed, “I want to thank you for your brave defense of my wife.”
“I only did what any one would do under the same circumstances,” said Walter, modestly.
“Any one of the requisite courage. You put yourself in danger.”
“I didn't think of that, Mr. Gregory.”
“No, I suppose not, but it is proper that I should think of it. You have placed me under an obligation that I shall not soon forget. You must do me the favor to come home to supper with me and pass the night. Will it interfere seriously with your business?”
“I am a life-insurance agent,” said Walter, “or, at least, I am trying to be, but have not yet succeeded in writing a policy.”
“I have been thinking of insuring my life for a small sum. If you come home with me you may talk me into doing it.”