"It's really a disease, I've read, like the hookworm down South, that makes so many of the poor, underfed whites in the mountain districts seem too lazy for any use. It gets in the blood when they are boys, and they feel a strong yearning just to loaf, and knock around, and pick up their meals when and where they can." "Well, I can believe a part of that, Hugh, but the meal end is too much for me to swallow. Whoever heard of a tramp who didn't respond to a dinner-bell on a farm? Eating and sleeping are their long suits, and they can beat the world at both. When it comes to going in swimming now, they draw the line every time, for fear of taking cold, I reckon. But I own up Brother Lu Isn't a bad looker, now that he's reformed far enough to keep his face and hands clean, and wear Mr. Hosmer's Sunday-go-to-meeting suit of clothes, which just fits him by squeezing, and turning up the trouser-legs several inches at the bottom." "Yes, he isn't a bad-looking man, and if we didn't know how fierce he seemed at the time we first ran across him in the patch of woods, we'd hardly dream he'd ever been down and out. Matilda's cooking seems to agree with him." "Shucks! it agrees too well with him, and that's the trouble. Now, I wonder if there could be any way to make him sicken on his bill of fare. I'm going to think it over, and see if I can evolve a scheme along those lines." "You'll find it hard to do," suggested Hugh, "because he eats just what Andrew does, I suppose; as for Matilda, I do believe she stints her appetite so as to be able to give her sick charges their fill." "She does look thinner than before, that's a fact!" exclaimed the indignant Thad. "What a burning shame all this is, Hugh! Surely there must be some remedy for it. I've got a good notion to have a talk with Dominie Pettigrew, and spin him the whole painful story. He might find a way to separate Brother Lu from his quarry." "Take my advice, Thad, and wait a little longer," Hugh told him. "Tomorrow will be Saturday and we play Belleville again in the afternoon. Besides, didn't he tell us it was going to be Matilda's birthday, and that he and Andrew had fixed it to surprise her a little? Well, don't say anything to the Parson until next week, and by that time perhaps we'll know a heap more than we do now." Thad looked keenly at the speaker, but Hugh kept a straight face. If a glimmering suspicion that Hugh might know of something he was averse to confiding to even his best chum darted through Thad's mind just then he allowed it to slip past. "All right, Hugh, I guess it won't do any harm to hold up a few more days. Matilda has stood it so long now that it isn't going to hurt her to endure another week or so of her brother's company, and his appetite in the bargain. I'll try and forget all about it in thinking of our game with Belleville. We've just got to clinch that, as sure as anything, if we hope to have a look-in at that pennant."