Her husband appeared, and instantly prejudiced by Bruce’s knickerbockers, doggedly quizzed him as to the nature and direction of his journey. Bruce was a new species, not to be confused with the ordinary tramp who demands food at farmhouses, and suddenly contrite that the repast she was providing was so meager, the woman rose and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a huge piece of spice cake and a dish of sliced peaches. She was taken aback when he rose deferentially to accept the offering, but her tired face relaxed in a smile at his cordial expressions of gratitude. She joined her husband on the stoop, finding the handsome pilgrim’s visit a welcome break in the monotonous day. As he ate he answered their questions unhurriedly. “I guess the war left a lot o’ you boys restless,” she suggested. “Oh, it wasn’t the war that made a rover of me!” he replied with a smile. “It was this way with me. When I got home I found I had something to think out--something I had to get used to”--he frowned and became silent for a moment--“so I decided I could do it better by tramping. But I’ve settled things in my own mind pretty well now,” he ended, half to himself, and smiled, hardly aware of their presence. “Yes?” The woman’s tone was almost eager. She was curious as to the real reason for his wanderings and what it was that he had settled. In the luminous afterglow her dull imagination quickened to a sense of something romantic in this stranger, and she was disappointed when he told of an experience as a laborer in a great steel mill, just to see what it was like, he said--of loitering along the Susquehanna, and of a more recent tramp through the Valley of Virginia. “I reckon you don’t have to work?” the farmer asked, baffled in his attempts to account for a young man who strolled over the country so aimlessly, wearing what struck him as an outlandish garb. “Oh, but I do! I’ve done considerable work as I’ve sauntered around. I’m an architect--or hope to be! I’ve earned my keep as I’ve traveled by getting jobs as a draughtsman.” “Going to stop in the city?” the woman inquired. “I guess there’s lots of architects over there.” “Yes,” Bruce replied, following the direction of her glance. “You know folks there?” she persisted. “I guess it’s hard getting started if you ain’t got friends.” “There’s a chap living there I knew in college; that’s all. But when you strike a strange town where you don’t know anyone the only thing to do is to buckle in and make them want to know you!” “I guess you can do that,” she remarked with shy admiration.