such a man that he had been given his
dinner at the door of that very house. What had the collection of his
rights as a "tramp" to do with questions of gratitude and revenge?

The bushes were a good enough hiding-place for the time, and he crawled
back to them with the air and manner of a man whose mind was made up to
something.

Ford and Frank were absent in the city that day with Mr. Foster, who was
kindly attending to some affairs of Frank's; but when the three came
home, and learned what had happened, it was hard to tell which of them
failed most completely in trying to express his boiling indignation.
They were all on the point of running over to the Morris house to thank
Dab, but Mrs. Foster interposed.

"I don't think I would. To-morrow will do as well, and you know they're
expecting Mr. and Mrs. Morris this evening."

It was harder for the boys to give it up than for Mr. Foster, and the
waiting till to-morrow looked a little dreary. They were lingering near
the north fence two hours later, with a faint idea of catching Dab, even
though they knew that the whole Kinzer family were down at the
railway-station, waiting for Ham and Miranda.

There was a good deal of patience to be exercised by them also; for that
railway-train was provokingly behind time, and there was "waiting" to be
done accordingly.

The darkness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had settled over
the village and its surrounding farms, long before the belated engine
puffed its way in front of the station-platform.

Just at that moment, back there by the north fence, Ford Foster
exclaimed,--

"What's that smell?"

"It's like burning hay, more than any thing else," replied Frank.

"Where can it come from, I'd like to know? We haven't had a light out at
our barn."

"Light?" exclaimed Frank. "Just look yonder!"

"Why, it's that old barn, 'way beyond the Morris and Kinzer house.
Somebody must have set it on fire. Hullo! I thought I saw a man running.
Come on, Frank!"

There was indeed a man running just then; but they did not see him, for
he was already very nearly across the field, and hidden by the darkness.
He had known how to light a fire that would smoulder long enough for him
to get away.

He was not running as well, nevertheless, as he might have done before
he came under the operation of Dab Kinzer's "lower joint."

Mrs. Kinzer did her best to prevent any thing like a "scene" at the
railway-station when Ham and Miranda