ooked at Tom and his father, and then burst into a
laugh. The habit was more firmly fastened on him than he was aware.

For several hours Tom, his father and Mr. Damon discussed various
methods of proceeding, and it was finally agreed that Mr. Damon should
first try to learn what Andy was doing, if anything, without resorting
to a disguise.

"Then, if that doesn't work, I'll become a tramp," was the decision of
the odd character. "I'll wear the raggedest clothes I can find Bless--"
But he stopped in time.

Mr. Damon took up his residence in the Swift household, as he had often
done before, and for the next week he went and came as he pleased,
sometimes being away all night.

"It's no use, though," declared Mr. Damon at the end of the week. "I
can't get anywhere near that shed, nor even get a glimpse inside of it.
I haven't been able to learn anything, either'. There are two gardeners
on guard all the while, and several times when I've tried to go in the
side gate, they've stopped me."

"Isn't there any news of Andy about town?" asked Tom. "I should think
Sam or Pete would know where he is."

"Well, I didn't ask them, for they'd know right away why I was
inquiring," said Mr. Damon, "but it seems to me as if there was
something queer going on. If Andy Foger is working in that shed of his,
he's keeping mighty quiet about it. Bless my--"

And once more he stopped in time. He was conquering the habit in a
measure.

"Well, what do you propose to do next?" asked Tom.

"Disguise myself like a tramp, and go there looking for work," was the
firm answer. "There are plenty of odd jobs on a big place such as the
Foger family have. I'll find out what I want to know, you see."

It seemed useless to further combat this resolution, and, in a few days
Mr. Damon presented a very different appearance. He had on a most
ragged suit, there was a scrubby beard on his face, and he walked with
a curious shuffle, caused by a pair of big, heavy shoes which he had
donned, first having taken the precaution to make holes in them and get
them muddy.

"Now I'm all ready," he said to Tom one day, when his disguise was
complete. "I'm going over and try my luck."

He left the house by a side door, so that no one would see him, and
started down the walk. As he did so a voice shouted:

"Hi, there! Git right out oh heah! Mistah Swift doan't allow no tramps
heah, an' we ain't got no wuk fo' yo', an' there ain't no cold
victuals. I does all d