"Well, then it's a washout as far as it goes with me," sighed the tramp. "I was goin' to ask if I couldn't do you folks some work for the price of a hand-out, but if yours is a private concern——"
"Oh, I guess we can manage to get you something," said Tom good-naturedly. A little later when he and Ned were eating in the combined kitchen and dining room, they handed the tramp a generous plateful, for which he expressed gratitude.
"Travel much in these parts?" asked Ned, as the hobo was about to shuffle along.
"More or less, Boss."
"Ever been to Dismal Mountain?"
"No, I can't say I have. And, what's more, I don't intend to! So if you folks is aimin' to have me go there to work for what you jest give me, count it out! I'm sorry, but——"
"Nothing like that," interrupted Tom. "I just wanted to know if we were on the right road to get there."
"Yes, you're on the right road," the tramp admitted, with a shake of his head. "But what for you fellers want to go to Dismal Mountain, gets me!"
"What's the matter with the place anyhow?" asked Ned.
"Oh, I don't know's there's much the matter with the place," and the man emphasized the word. "It's the birds that hang out around there."