"The boys ought to go over and ride him on a rail, or tar and feather him. I guess that would wake him up." "Oh, I hope they don't do that! He's a bad man when he gets in a rage." Andy did not want any more trouble than had already fallen to his portion. "By the way, Andy, did a man named Hopton call on you lately?" asked Carrow, after a pause. "Hopton? I never heard of him. Who is he?" "Why, as near as I can learn, he is a real estate man--deals in timber and farm lands. He came here a week or so ago, thinking you had a job here. I told him where you lived, and I supposed he called on you." "I didn't see him. What did he want?" "He wouldn't say--leastwise, I didn't ask him, seeing's it was none of my business. But he did ask me, confidential like--after he found out that I had known your father well--if your folks had any timber lands over in Michigan." "Oh!" Andy uttered the exclamation before he had time to think. "Did he--that is, did he ask about any land in particular?" "No. I told him I didn't think you owned any land anywhere. He looked satisfied at that and went away. But I thought he called on you." "Where was he from?" "I don't know. But they might tell you at the office. Have you got any land?" It was an awkward question. Andy did not wish to tell a falsehood, nor did he wish to disclose the secret left by his parent. He bit off a mouthful of bread and pretended to choke upon it. "Hi, look out, or you'll choke to death!" cried Bill Carrow, slapping him on the back. Then Andy ran to the door and continued to cough, until the awkward question was forgotten. Other workmen came up, and the talk became general. Perhaps Carrow suspected that the boy did not wish to answer him, for he did not refer to the matter again. After thanking his friend for the dinner, Andy walked back to the office. He found the clerk smoking a pipe and reading a Bangor newspaper, having finished his midday meal a few minutes previously. "It's no use," he said, as Andy came in. "We can't possibly take you on." "I came back to get a little information, if you'll be kind enough to give it. Do you know a man named Hopton?" "Why, yes. I suppose you mean A. Q. Hopton, the real estate dealer." "Does he deal in timber lands?" "I think he does." "Where is he from?" "He has an office in Portland, and another in Grand Rapids, Michigan." "Do you know where he is now?" "No. He was here on business some days ago. Perhaps he went back to Portland." "Thank you." "Want to buy a few thousand acres of land?" and the clerk chuckled at his joke. "No, I thought I could sell him a linen duster to keep the icicles off when he's on the road," answered Andy, with a grin. And then, as there seemed nothing more to say, he walked away, and was soon leaving the Storburgh lumber camp behind him.