"Not very far off."
"Ah, then you know this old shack?"
"Well, I don't get over here, very often. Do you live here?" ventured
Mark boldly, determining to do some questioning on his own account.
"Me live here?" cried the man, as if indignant "Well, hardly! I was
just passing, and, happening to see the old place, and having a
fondness for antiques, I stepped in. But it is in bad shape. I should
say tramps make it their hangout."
"It has that name," said Mark.
There was a pause for a moment, and the lad was a trifle embarrassed.
The man was gazing boldly at him.
"I guess I've made a mistake," thought Mark. "This can't be the man we
want. He doesn't live here, and he doesn't look like him. I'd better be
getting back to meet Jack."
"Are you engaged at anything in particular?" questioned the man taking
a few steps nearer the youth.
"No, I'm not working, but I expect to take a trip, shortly, with some
friends of mine," answered Mark.
"Ah, is that so?" and there was polite inquiry in the man's voice.
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