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L O
By
TERRY
RAMSAYE
approach of the pedestrian. She hurried to the door and called sharply to her father.
"There's a man coming — could it be — "
Hardy did not answer the unfinished question. He sprang to the porch and gazed down the lane intently.
"Rose, run in and get my revolver."
From down the lane came a snatch of hopeful song:
"It mus' be now the Kingdom comin' An' de Year ob Jubilo!"
Jim Hardy strapped on his Jiolstered revolver and slipped his coat on over it, keeping his eyes fixed on the approaching visitor. He spoke to his daughter without turning.
"No — it's not him. He wouldn't come singing." Hardly paused again for a moment of close attention, then reassuringly spoke to his daughter. "You go in the house; I'll meet him."
The vagrant approached Hardy with his best smile widely radiant, answering the •older man's inquiring look.
"I am a candidate for something to eat. Elected?"
The tramp looked Hardy squarely in the eye — squarely but hopefully and ingratiatingly. Hardy with the stern air of a judge confronting a prisoner bored into him with his eyes.
"When did you sober up?"
There was silence and an exchange of sharp, unwavering glances.
"This morning. I woke up cold, sober and thirsty."
He stood waiting expectantly.
Inside the kitchen door Rose stood listening and peering out at their caller. Her e.xpression was not one of displeasure as she surveyed the debonair vagabond. Hardy continued to size up the stranger.
"What is your name?"
There was just a flicker of hesitation, then the reply, intoned as an impressive introduction.
"John Lawrence Alfred Tadema."
"That sounds like a lie," snapped Hardy.
But this struck no fire. The rejoinder came, unabashed and cheerful.
"Still it's a good one. I always wanted to be called 'Tadema' — but my friends call me 'Year ob Jubilo' — just 'Jubilo' for short."
Hardy seized Jubilo's hands and turned them palms up. They were soft and unealloused, innocent of work.
"Yep. Plain and fancy hobo, loafing a specialty, eating a fine art — May I den:onstra*e?"
"You can eat, but you will first have to work to earn it."
"My profound thanks, sir — but work? — May I not decline? — I consider work the only great drawback to eating."
Jubilo with a saddened sigh turned and started away. Rose ran from her doorway to her father, whispering to him.
"Don't send him away — I think — I think, I like the way he smiles."
Jubilo'?. alertness caught the note of intercession. He paused and took his hat in his hand, clearing his throat to get attention.
"I don't want to get into the habit of working, but I also do not want to get entirely out of the habit of eating. I might try it, till, say about meal time."
"All right,"' replied Hardy, still stern, drawing his daughter aside and leading her into the doorway to speak to her in a low tone.
"I think he's a plain tramp — but if he should have been sent here by him. I want him where I can watch him."
Hardy picked up a pair of m.ilk buckets and steeping into the yard xalled on Jubilo to join him at the barn. The rancher walked rapidly down the long stable to the cows' stall. He turned about quickly to find Jubilo standing open mouthed staring at a big bay horse, heavily splashed with white on