orrowing neighbor. A very different person met her view. The
ragged hat, the ill-looking face, the neglected attire, led her to
recognize the tramp whom Ben had described to her as having attempted
to rob him in the afternoon. Terrified, Mrs. Barclay's first impulse
was to shut the door and bolt it. But her unwelcome visitor was too
quick for her. Thrusting his foot into the doorway, he interposed an
effectual obstacle in the way of shutting the door.

"No, you don't, ma'am!" he said, with as laugh. "I understand your
little game. You want to shut me out."

"What do you want?" asked the widow apprehensively.

"What do I want?" returned the tramp. "Well, to begin with, I want
something to eat--and drink," he added, after a pause.

"Why don't you go to the tavern?" asked Mrs. Barclay, anxious for him
to depart.

"Well, I can't afford it. All the money I've got is a bogus dollar
your rogue of a son gave me this afternoon."

"You stole it from him," said the widow indignantly.

"What's the odds if I did. It ain't of no value. Come, haven't you
anything to eat in the house? I'm hungry as a wolf."

"And you look like one!" thought Mrs. Barclay, glancing at his
unattractive features; but she did not dare to say it.

There seemed no way of refusing, and she was glad to comply with his
request, if by so doing she could soon get rid of him.

"Stay here," she said, "and I'll bring you some bread and butter and
cold meat."

"Thank you, I'd rather come in," said the tramp, and he pushed his way
through the partly open door.

She led the way uneasily into the kitchen just in the rear of the
sitting room where she had been seated.

"I wish Ben was here," she said to herself, with sinking heart.

The tramp seated himself at the kitchen table, while Mrs. Barclay,
going to the pantry, brought out part of a loaf of bread, and butter,
and a few slices of cold beef, which she set before him. Without
ceremony he attacked the viands and ate as if half famished. When
about half through, he turned to the widow, and asked:

"Haven't you some whisky in the house?"

"I never keep any," answered Mrs. Barclay.

"Rum or gin, then?" I ain't partic'lar. I want something to warm me
up."

"I keep no liquor of any kind. I don't approve of drink, or want Ben
to touch it."

"Oh, you belong to the cold water army, do you?" said the tramp with a
sneer. "Give me some coffee, then."

"I have no fire, and cannot prepar