The Chums of Scranton High Out for the Pennant | Page 3

slightest taint of anything bordering on the vulgar or the sensational.
There was not a single picture of a notorious or famous boxer; or any
theatrical beauties, to be seen. Evidently Hugh's fancy ran along the
lines of clean sport, and healthy outdoor exercise.
So the two chums started off for a walk, their pace a brisk one, because
the air after that recent spell of rain was quite cool and invigorating,
Indeed, once Thad even deplored the fact that Mr. Leonard had thought
it best to call off practice for that afternoon.
"Well," remarked Hugh on hearing him say that, "Mr. Leonard was of
the opinion we were rather overdoing the matter, and might go stale.
He told me so, and said that in his experience he had known more than
a few teams to overdo things, and lose their best gait in too much work.
He says one more test ought to put the proper fighting spirit in us, and
that he feels confident we'll be keyed up to top-notch speed by
tomorrow night. I think our pitcher, Alan Tyree, is doing better than
ever before in his life; and those Belleville sluggers are going to run up
against a surprise if they expect him to be an easy mark."
In due time they reached the farm, and securing several pounds of
freshly-made butter that had not even been salted, and was called
"sweet butter," they started back. Thad proposed that they take a
roundabout route home, just for a change; and this small thing was
fated to bring them into contact with a trifling adventure that would
cause them both considerable bewilderment, and be a cause for
conjecture for days and weeks to come.
"I smell wood smoke," remarked Thad, after they had gone about a
third of the distance; "and as the wind is almost dead ahead the fire
must be in that direction. There's no house in that quarter that I
remember, Hugh. There, now can see smoke coming out of that thin
patch of woods yonder. I wonder if they're meaning to cut those trees
down and clear more land?"

"No, you're away off there, Thad," remarked Hugh, just then. "I can
glimpse the fire now, and there's just one chap hanging over it. Don't
you see he's a Weary Willie of a hobo, who's getting his dinner ready
with wet wood. Here's a chance for us to see just how the thing is done,
so let's make him a friendly call!"

CHAPTER II
THE MAN WITH THE COUGH
Thad seemed quite agreeable.
"Do you know I've never come in close contact with any tramp," he
went on to remark, as they turned their faces toward the patch of trees
where the smoke arose, "and I've always wanted to watch just how they
managed. I note that this fellow has a couple of old tomato cans he's
picked up on some dump, and they're set over the fire to warm up some
coffee, or something he's evidently gotten at a back door. Perhaps he'll
be sociable, and invite us to join him in his afternoon meal. I guess they
eat at any old time, just as the notion seizes them, eh, Hugh?"
"They're a good deal like savages in that respect, I understand," the
other told him. "You know Indians often go a whole day without
breaking their fast; but when they do eat they stuff themselves until
they nearly burst. There, he has seen us coming in, for he's shading his
eyes with his hand, and taking a good look."
"I hope we haven't given him a scare," chuckled Thad, "under the
impression that one of us may be the sheriff, or some indignant farmer
who's lost some of his chickens lately, and traced them feathers to this
camping spot."
The hobo, however, did not attempt to run. He watched their approach
with interest, and even waved a friendly hand toward the two lads.
"Why, evidently he's something of a jolly dog," remarked the surprised

Thad, "and there are no chicken feathers around that I can notice. Hello,
bo', getting your five o'clock tea ready, I see."
At these last words, called out louder than ordinary, the man in the
ragged and well-worn garments grinned amiably.
"Well, now, young feller," he went on to say in a voice that somehow
was not unpleasant to Hugh's ear, "that's about the size of it. I haven't
had a bite since sun-up this morning, and I'm near caving in. Out for a
walk, are you, lads?"
"Oh! we live in Scranton," Hugh explained, "and I had an errand up
beyond. We went by another road, and came back this way, which is
why we sighted your smoke. Fact is, Thad, my chum here, has never
seen a