Old Peter cleared his throat with a rasping sound and shoved round his chair till he could glance at Kennedy, who made a quick, cautioning gesture. “Then if that’s the case,” floundered the landlord helplessly, “I don’t s’pose you can help us none. I’m sorry. I didn’t take you for a minister’s son.” “I am,” was the prompt assurance. “If I can’t help you, perhaps you know where I can get a job on a farm.” “You say you’ve never done no farm work, but, still, green hands ain’t to be sneezed at when help is short.” Kennedy rose and stepped forward. “I’m a farmer,” he said, “and I need a man.” The new arrival in Deering looked up with a slight frown. “You’re the man I met when I first came in,” he said. “Well, if you need a laborer on your farm perhaps we can talk business, bo.” “You don’t look like a sick man to me.” “My business has been too confining. You can see it has affected me. I don’t like confinement.” “I’ll give you all the outdoor work you want,” announced Jack, “and if you’re any good I’ll pay you twenty-five dollars a month and keep.” “That suits me. It’s a deal.” “All right,” said Kennedy; “I’ll be in town to-morrow afternoon and take you out to my farm. My name, as I told you before, is Kennedy.” “And mine, as I told you before,” said the other, “is Stranger.” “‘Stranger’ goes,” returned Kennedy. “You can call yourself anything you blame please. It’s none of my business.” CHAPTER XXVI MIGHTY QUEER Kennedy wanted an opportunity to meditate quietly upon the peculiar behavior of Lefty Locke, with the hope of hitting on a reasonable solution of the problem. For a problem it now appeared to the old manager. “There’s just one thing I’m afraid of,” he said to McLaughlin after Lefty had bidden them good night and ascended to his room. “He didn’t expect to run across me here in Deering. It must have been a jolt to him, though he managed to hide it mighty clever. Now, he may take a notion to sneak sudden and give us the shake. ’Twouldn’t surprise me if you woke up to-morrer to find your late guest missing.” “He’ll have some trouble gittin’ out of town before the first train in the morning,” declared Peter. “If you think it’s worth while, Jack, I’ll have Skedge, the boy, set up all night right here to see that he don’t sneak out.” “Anything would be worth while if we could only get him to pitch a few games for us.” But if Skedge remained awake and on guard all night in the office of the Central House, he wasted his time. Apparently the new guest had no idea of slipping away, and when he appeared at breakfast the next morning everything seemed to indicate that he had passed a restful night. Kennedy came in early for forenoon practice at the ball park, but his suggestion that the new farm hand should go out to the grounds with him was not received favorably.