But somehow Danny felt that he was meant to find the girl, and his spirits rose. For nearly an hour he and the artist-tramp discussed pictures. Then Danny made a fire, and boiled a billy of tea, and produced a loaf and some butter out of his haversack.
“About twelve o’clock,” he said, “you’ll have six wild Wolf Cubs descending upon you. They yelled with joy when I told them their ‘mysterious tramp’ was still here! Now I must get back and take them to church.”
So he said good-bye to the tramp and went back to the house, whistling.
Out of the little grey church at the cross-roads came the Cubs, very demurely. But no sooner were they outside the churchyard gate than they gave vent to a wild yell, and, tumbling over the stile, tore off down the path to the gamekeeper’s cottage.
When Danny arrived with the big basket of lunch, he found them very happy. The tramp had apparently turned into a most dangerous grizzly bear, and the Cubs into intrepid hunters.
All the afternoon their mysterious friend told them stories. When at last it was time for them to go Danny saw them home, and then came back to the cottage. He stoked up the fire and sat down by it.
“Sir,” he said, “when you told me your story last night, you said you were tramping the roads because you have two quests. One was to find your little girl. You did not tell me the other.”
The tramp’s face clouded. His kind grey eyes suddenly became as hard as steel. He did not answer for some time. Then he spoke slowly.
“My second quest is this,” he said; “to find the fellow who wronged me, and reap my revenge!”