eception was pushed forward by Mrs.
Kinzer with all the energy she could bring to bear; and Dab felt called
upon to remark to Pamela,--

"Isn't it wonderful, Mele, how many things she finds to do after every
thing's done?"

The widow had promised her son-in-law that his house should be "ready"
for him, and it was likely to be a good deal more ready than either he
or his wife had expected.

CHAPTER XV.

DABNEY KINZER TO THE RESCUE.

One of the most troublesome of the annoyances which come nowadays to
dwellers in the country, within easy reach of any great city, is the bad
kind of strolling beggar known as "the tramp." He is of all sorts and
sizes; and he goes everywhere, asking for any thing he wants, very much
as if it belonged to him and he had come for his own--so long as he can
do his asking of a woman or a sickly-looking man. There had been very
few of these gentry seen in that vicinity, that summer, for a wonder;
and those who had made their appearance had been reasonably well
behaved. Probably because there had been so many healthy-looking men
around, as a general thing. But it come to pass, on the very day in
which Ham and Miranda were expected to arrive by the last of the evening
trains, just as Dab Kinzer was turning away from the landing, where he
had been for a look at "The Swallow" and to make sure she was all right
for her owner's eyes, that a very disreputable specimen of a worthless
man stopped at Mrs. Kinzer's to beg something to eat, and then sauntered
away down the road. It was a little past the middle of the afternoon;
and even so mean-looking, dirty a tramp as that had a perfect right to
be walking along then and there. The sunshine, and the fresh salt air
from the bay, were as much his as anybody's, and so was the water in the
bay; and no one in all that region of country stood more in need of
plenty of water than he.

The vagabond took his right to the road, as he had taken his other right
to beg his dinner, until, half-way down to the landing, he was met by an
opportunity to do a little more begging.

"Give a poor feller suthin'?" he impudently drawled, as he stared
straight into the sweet fresh face of Annie Foster.

Annie had been out for only a short walk; but she happened to have her
pocket-book with her, and she thoughtlessly drew it out, meaning to give
the scamp a trifle, if only to get rid of him.

"Only a dime, miss?" whined the tramp, as he shut his dirty hand over