“Couldn’t you have slept in the church, instead of in this bird roost?” Brad asked.
“Oh, some nights I do.” The stranger had gathered up his army blankets and was folding them neatly. “I stay up here because I like the cool, clean air. I can sleep anywhere. Learned it in the army. Up here I don’t have to keep an eye out all the time for that pest, Terry the Terrible.”
“The church caretaker?” Dan asked, smiling at the nickname.
“Sure, he’s always checking up, but never did tumble to the fact that he had a non-paying renter in his building.”
“Who are you anyhow?” Dan asked bluntly. “Didn’t we see you the other night at the basketball game?”
“I was there, son.”
“You didn’t tell us your name,” Dan reminded him.
“Didn’t I?” The man smiled as he ran a hand over his stubbly two-day-old beard. “Would you take me for a tramp?”
“Not exactly.” Dan scarcely knew how to classify the stranger. He spoke excellent English and had certain refinements that one usually did not associate with a tramp. Yet obviously, the fellow was without funds or he wouldn’t be living in the belfry.
“You must excuse my appearance,” the man said. “I haven’t had a chance to get to my barber yet today.”