"Where are you going?" asked the lad.
"To Ciscasset, sir, if I ever get there. I'm beginnin' to think there ain't no such place."
"I assure you there is, for I live in it myself."
"Do you?" she ejaculated, with a flash of interest. "Do you know a man by the name of Hobart Dillson?"
"Rather—he was my father's bookkeeper for years. We pension him now," he added, grandly, and with a wish to impress.
'Tilda Jane was not impressed, for she did not know what a pension was.
"What kind of a feller is he?" she asked, eagerly.
"Oh, a sort of tiger—might be in a cage, you know, but we haven't got one big enough."
"You mean he gets mad easy?"