“If she still loved him, perhaps; but she could no longer love him,” Walton sighed. “She belongs to a proud family, Dick, not one member of which was ever guilty of such conduct as mine. She would shudder at the sight of me, she would blush with shame for having cared for me. That's why I came away. If I had not loved her, I'd have stayed and faced my punishment.” After this talk the two trudged on through the garish sunshine without exchanging a word for several miles. It was noon. They had come to the gate of a farmhouse which bore the look of prosperity, and they paused in the shade of a tree. “We can't go farther without eating,” the boy said. “You don't like to beg, but I don't care; I've done it hundreds of times, and don't feel ashamed of it. I'm going to put on a bold front and tackle the kitchen in the rear.” “Don't ask for anything _for me_,” Walton said. “I'm not very hungry. I can get along for some time yet.” “Wait till I find out how it smells around that kitchen,” Dick laughed. “I'm nearly dead.” The boy had opened the gate, and was walking briskly toward the house, which stood back about a hundred yards from the road. Walton saw him meet a great lazy-looking dog near the steps and pat the animal on the head. Then the dog and boy went round the building toward the kitchen. A moment later Walton saw Dick returning, a flush on his face and empty handed. The dog paused near the front steps, wagging a cordial if not, indeed, a regretful tail. “The dirty red-faced scamp ordered me to move on!” Dick cried, angrily. “He says the country is overrun with tramps, who won't work and who expect to live on the toil of honest men.” “Did he say that?” and Walton's eyes flashed. “I'd like to prove to him that I'm no--But what's the use?” “Look, he's coming!” the boy said, eagerly. “Maybe he's changed his mind. A woman was listening to what he said. Perhaps she's told him to call us back.” The fat, middle-aged farmer, bald, perspiring, and without hat or coat, strode down to them, and languidly opened the gate. “Say, I just want to tell you fellows _one more thing_,” he panted, as he wiped his bearded chin with his pudgy hand, “and that is this: We may look like a lot of galoots just out of an asylum along this here road, but most of us have a grain of sense. Back here a piece a neighbor of mine sent two able-bodied men like you two about their business a month ago, and that night his barn was fired. Now, if you fellows try any game of that sort on me, I'll--” “Dry up!” Walton cried, as he suddenly faced him. “I wasn't begging of you. I only let this boy go up to you because he is nearly starved. You can't insult me--I won't have it! I am not a tramp. As proof of it, I have a good solid gold watch here that I am willing to sell you or any one else at any fair price you may put on it.” “Huh! let me see it.” The farmer's eyes gleamed avariciously as Walton took the watch from his pocket and extended it to him.