"Yes, uncle, I learned all about him. He was born in Montreal, and his father and mother live there now. He sends them half his earnings regularly. His name—that is, his real name—is Oliver Brown." Mr. Richmond never thought of doubting the truth of this smoothly-told fiction, but he was greatly disappointed. He sighed deeply, and when Hugo proposed to continue their journey that day he made no objection. CHAPTER IX. TWO BOYS ON A TRAMP. "Mr. Tarbox, where on earth have you been?" inquired his wife, when her liege lord returned about 11.30 o'clock. "I've been to the circus," said the farmer shortly. "Oh, why didn't you take me, Nathan? I've always wanted to go to the circus," said Mrs. Tarbox in a tone of disappointment. "It isn't a fit place for you," said her husband. "You went!" said his wife, significantly. "If it's a fit place for you, why isn't it for me?" "Do you think I went there for pleasure? You ought to know me better than to suppose I would visit such a demoralizing spectacle for amusement." "Then why did you go?" "I went to arrest that brute who kicked Bruiser to death and assaulted me. That's why I went." "Did he feel bad when you arrested him?" asked Mrs. Tarbox, with natural curiosity. "No; I had to defer it, for the warrant wasn't rightly made out." "Dear me! Did it take all the evening?" asked his wife. "Peace, woman! You ask too many questions," said Tarbox, who found it rather difficult to explain matters. "It must have been so nice to see the circus," murmured Mrs. Tarbox; "but I am sure I should have been afraid of the giant." "There was a fat woman," growled Tarbox, "who looked as silly as you do. I dare say she wasn't, though." "How funny you are. Nathan!" said his wife, who wasn't at all sensitive. "How was she dressed?" "How on earth should I know? She didn't wear a coat and pantaloons." "It must take a sight of calico to make her a dress. How much does she weigh?" "Two tons, more or less," answered Tarbox. "Good gracious!" ejaculated his simple-minded wife. "I never heard the like. Do let me go to the circus, husband. I should so like to see her." "You might never come back alive. There's lions, and tigers and wild cats all around. They often break out of their cages and kill a dozen people before they can be stopped." Mrs. Tarbox turned pale and gave up her idea of going to the circus. "You'd make a nice meal for a tiger. They're fond of bones," continued the farmer, grimly. "O, Nathan, don't say another word. I wouldn't go now if I could get in for nothing." The next day, after a consultation with Squire Price and the constable, Mr. Tarbox concluded that it wouldn't be worth while to obtain a new warrant for the arrest of the giant, as he had reason to believe that Mr. Spriggins would go out of town to avoid serving it. It was hard to give up his cherished scheme of vengeance, particularly as he had already expended a dollar in vain; but there seemed no alternative.