"Hardly," spoke Frank, in a dreamy tone.
"I cannot think what he does here," exclaimed Charles. "If he had any evil intentions, he—he would have acted upon them before now."
"You mean as to yourself, Charley. Rely upon it, you are out of the matter altogether."
"Who's in it, then?"
"Myself, perhaps."
The answer was given quietly and easily: but there was something in its tone that kept Charles from regarding it as a jest.
"You are not in debt, are you, Frank?" he cried hastily.
"Not that I know of."
"I declare for the moment I thought you must be in earnest," said Charles, relieved. "It is uncommonly strange what the fellow can want here!"
Frank said no more. They paced about for some time, without their hats, in the bright moonlight, talking of other matters. In crossing the path to the house; they met Jetty the carpenter coming away from it, a frail in his hand, out of which a saw was standing upright. The man had been doing some repairs indoors.