The Chums of Scranton High Out for the Pennant | Page 8

said. "Matilda was
always a great hand for keeping things clean. Now, I rather reckon I'll
like this place a heap."
Thad burned with fresh indignation to hear him so coolly signify his
intention of burdening the already hard pressed sister with his keep.
"Oh! is that so?" he snorted, "then I kind of think you'll have to get a
move on you, Wandering Lu, and remove a few pounds of superfluous
earth from your face and hands."
The man did not show any sign of being offended at this attack; simply
looked at his hands, and grinned as he remarked:
"Reckon that I will, younker; but then soap is cheap, and I wouldn't
want to soil Matilda's clean sheets and towels. Yes, if I'm going to
become domesticated and give up all this roving business I suppose I'll
just have to clean up a bit. Wonder now if Andrew he would have an
extra suit of clothes he could turn over to me. I'd sure hate to make my
poor sister blush to introduce her brother looking as tough as I do just
now."
"There's Mrs. Hosmer coming along the street," said Hugh at that
juncture. "She's got a bundle with her, so I expect she's been getting

more sewing to do from your mother or mine, Thad. And that's Mr.
Hosmer just opened the door to let her in. He's been watching for her,
no doubt, because they say he's always been a mighty good husband,
and it nearly kills him to see her working so hard while he keeps on
being too weak to be at his trade. We'll meet her at the door."
They walked along, and stopped just as the good woman came up. Mrs.
Hosmer had snow-white hair, and a most amiable countenance. Every
one who knew her understood that the poor woman possessed a big
heart, and would share her last crust with a hungry man or child. Thad,
gritting his teeth at what he anticipated he would see, watched the
meeting. Hugh answered her pleasant greeting by saying:
"We chanced to come across a man who was inquiring for you, Mrs.
Hosmer, and as he asked us to show him where you lived we have
fetched him along. He can speak for himself now."
The woman turned to look at the tramp. Up to then she had hardly
noticed him, but now something seemed to stir within her bosom. They
saw her start, and bending, look more closely, at the same time turning
paler than usual.
"Oh! who can it be?" she said, weakly. "I seem to see something
familiar about the figure, and the face, but it's impossible, for my
brother Lu has long been dead."
"That's where you're mistaken, Matilda, because I'm that same Luther
Corbley, and still alive and in the flesh, though pretty far gone, I'm
afraid," and he acted as if about to start into one of his hysterical
coughing spells, then thought better of it, because Matilda was rushing
toward him, dropping her bundle as she came.
Paying no attention to his soiled and ragged clothes, the good woman
threw her arms about the neck of her long-lost brother, and actually
kissed him again and again on his rough cheek. Hugh, watching closely,
could see the man assume a pleased look, and once he thought he
caught Wandering Lu actually winking his left eye in his direction, as
though to say: "You see, she never will let me die on the road!"

CHAPTER IV
THE BARNACLE THAT CAME TO STAY
The man in the doorway, Andrew Hosmer, had watched this
remarkable scene with a variety of emotions. He realized that
something in the nature of a calamity had come upon them, for if his
poor, hard-working wife had found it difficult, even with the generous
help of good friends in Scranton, to provide food for the two of them,
however could she manage to add still another to the household, and
feed a third mouth?
Still, this man was undoubtedly Luther Corbley, the brother of whom
she had so often talked, and who was believed to be long since dead,
because he led such an adventurous life. And surely they could not be
so inhuman as to deny him at least temporary shelter, and a share of
their slender meals.
So, greatly to the disgust of Thad in particular, Mr. Hosmer now came
forward to offer his hand to the tramp, who took it eagerly. The look on
Brother Lu's face impressed Hugh as one of strange import. He could
not make it out at all, and even found himself vaguely wondering
whether this man might not after all be some sort of artful impostor,
who, having learned about the lost brother, chose to play the part
simply