Euphemia was much disturbed by the various occurrences of the afternoon. She was sorry for the man in the tree; she was sorry that the agent for the Royal Ruby grape had been obliged to go away; and I had a good deal of trouble during dinner to make her see things in the proper light. But I succeeded at last.
I did not hurry through dinner, and when we had finished I went to my work at the barn. Tramps are not generally pressed for time, and Pomona had been told to give our captive something to eat.
I was just locking the door of the carriage house, when Pomona came running to me to tell me that the tramp wanted to see me about something very important—just a minute, he said. I put the key in my pocket and walked over to the tree. It was now almost dark, but I could see that the dog, the tramp, and the tree still kept their respective places.
"Look-a-here," said the individual in the crotch, "you don't know how dreadful oneasy these limbs gits after you've been settin' up here as long as I have. And I don't want to have nuthin' to do with no constables. I'll tell you what I'll do: if you'll chain up that dog and let me go, I'll fix things so that you'll not be troubled no more by no tramps."
"How will you do that?" I asked.
"Oh, never you mind," said he. "I'll give you my word of honour I'll do it. There's a reg'lar understandin' among us fellers, you know."
I considered the matter. The word of honour of a fellow such as he was could not be worth much, but the merest chance of getting rid of tramps should not be neglected. I went in to talk to Euphemia about it, although I knew what she would say. I reasoned with myself as much as with her.
141
