dabney kinzer to the rescue.

one of the most troublesome of the annoyances which come nowadays to dwellers in the country, within easy reach of any great city, is the bad kind of strolling beggar known as "the tramp." he is of all sorts and sizes; and he goes everywhere, asking for any thing he wants, very much as if it belonged to him and he had come for his own—so long as he can do his asking of a woman or a sickly-looking man. there had been very few of these gentry seen in that vicinity, that summer, for a wonder; and those who had made their appearance had been reasonably well behaved. probably because there had been so many healthy-looking men around, as a general thing. but it come to pass, on the very day in which ham and miranda were expected to arrive by the last of the evening trains, just as dab kinzer was turning away from the landing, where he had been for a look at "the swallow" and to make sure she was all right for her owner's eyes, that a very disreputable specimen of a worthless man stopped at mrs. kinzer's to beg something to eat, and then sauntered away down the road. it was a little past the middle of the afternoon; and even so mean-looking, dirty a tramp as that had a perfect right to be walking along then and there. the sunshine, and the fresh salt air from the bay, were as much his as anybody's, and so was the water in the bay; and no one in all that region of country stood more in need of plenty of water than he.

the vagabond took his right to the road, as he had taken his other right to beg his dinner, until, half-way down to the landing, he was met by an opportunity to do a little more begging.

"give a poor feller suthin'?" he impudently drawled, as he stared straight into the sweet fresh face of annie foster.

annie had been out for only a short walk; but she happened to have her pocket-book with her, and she thoughtlessly drew it out, meaning to give the scamp a trifle, if only to get rid of him.

"only a dime, miss?" whined the tramp, as he shut his dirty hand over annie's gift. "come, now, make it a dollar, my beauty. i'll call it all square for a dollar."

the whine grew louder as he spoke; and the wheedling grin on his disgusting face changed into an expression so menacing that annie drew back with a shudder, and was about returning her little portemonnaie to her pocket.

"no, you don't, honey!"

the words were uttered in a hoarse and husky voice, and were accompanied by a sudden grip of poor annie's arm with one hand, while with the other he snatched greedily at the morocco case.

did she scream?

how could she help it? or what else could she have done, under the circumstances?

she screamed vigorously, whether she would or no, and at the same moment dropped her pocket-book in the grass beside the path, so that it momentarily escaped the vagabond's clutches.

"shut up, will you!"

other angry and evil words, accompanied by more than one vicious threat, followed thick and fast, as annie struggled to free herself, while her assailant peered hungrily around after the missing prize.

it is not at all likely he would have attempted any thing so bold as that, in broad daylight, if he had not been drinking too freely; and the very evil "spirit" which had prompted him to his rash rascality unfitted him for its immediate consequences.

these latter, in the shape of dab kinzer and the lower joint of a stout fishing-rod, had been bounding along up the road from the landing, at a tremendous rate, for nearly half a minute.

a boy of fifteen assailing a full-grown ruffian?

why not? age hardly counts in such a matter; and then it is not every boy of even his growth that could have brought muscles like those of dab kinzer to the swing he gave that four-foot length of seasoned ironwood.

annie saw him coming; but her assailant did not until it was too late for him to do any thing but turn, and receive that first hit in front instead of behind. it would have knocked over almost anybody; and the tramp measured his length on the ground, while dabney plied the rod on him with all the energy he was master of.

"oh, don't, dabney, don't!" pleaded annie: "you'll kill him!"

"i wouldn't want to do that," said dab, as he suspended his pounding; but he added, to the tramp,—

"now you'd better get up and run for it if you're caught around here again, it'll be the worse for you."

the vagabond staggered to his feet, and he looked savagely enough at dab; but the latter looked so very ready to put in another hit with that terrible cudgel, and the whole situation was so unpleasantly suggestive of further difficulty, that the youngster's advice was taken without a word. that is, if a shambling kind of double limp can be described as a "run for it."

"here it is: i've found my pocket-book," said annie, as her enemy made the best of his way off.

"he did not hurt you?"

"no: he only scared me, except that i suppose my arm will be black-and-blue where he caught hold of it. thank you ever so much, dabney: you're a brave boy. why, he's almost twice your size."

"yes; but the butt of my rod is twice as hard as his head," said dabney. "i was almost afraid to strike him with it. i might have broken his skull."

"you didn't even break your rod."

"no; and now i must run back for the other pieces and the tip. i dropped them in the road."

"please, dabney, see me home first," said annie. "i know it's foolish, and there isn't a bit of danger; but i must confess to being a good deal frightened."

dab kinzer was a little the proudest boy on long island, as he walked along at annie's side, in compliance with her request. he went no farther than the gate, to be sure, and then he returned for the rest of his rod: but before he got back with it, keziah kinzer hurried home from a call on mrs. foster, bringing a tremendous account of dab's heroism; and then his own pride over what he had done was only a mere drop in the bucket, compared to that of his mother.

"dabney is growing wonderfully," she remarked to samantha, "he'll be a man before any of us know it."

if dab had been a man, however, or if ham morris or mr. foster had been at home, the matter would not have been permitted to drop there. that tramp ought to have been followed, arrested, and shut up where his vicious propensities would have been under wholesome restraint for a while. as it was, after hurrying on for a short distance, and making sure he was not pursued, he clambered over the fence, and sneaked into the nearest clump of bushes. from this safe covert he watched dab kinzer's return after the lighter pieces of his rod; and then he even dared to crouch along the fence, and see which house his young conqueror went into.

"that's where he lives, is it?" he muttered, with a scowl of the most ferocious vengeance. "well, they'll have some fun there before they git to bed to-night, or i'll know the reason why."

it could not have occurred to such a man that he had been given his dinner at the door of that very house. what had the collection of his rights as a "tramp" to do with questions of gratitude and revenge?

the bushes were a good enough hiding-place for the time, and he crawled back to them with the air and manner of a man whose mind was made up to something.

ford and frank were absent in the city that day with mr. foster, who was kindly attending to some affairs of frank's; but when the three came home, and learned what had happened, it was hard to tell which of them failed most completely in trying to express his boiling indignation. they were all on the point of running over to the morris house to thank dab, but mrs. foster interposed.

"i don't think i would. to-morrow will do as well, and you know they're expecting mr. and mrs. morris this evening."

it was harder for the boys to give it up than for mr. foster, and the waiting till to-morrow looked a little dreary. they were lingering near the north fence two hours later, with a faint idea of catching dab, even though they knew that the whole kinzer family were down at the railway-station, waiting for ham and miranda.

there was a good deal of patience to be exercised by them also; for that railway-train was provokingly behind time, and there was "waiting" to be done accordingly.

the darkness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had settled over the village and its surrounding farms, long before the belated engine puffed its way in front of the station-platform.

just at that moment, back there by the north fence, ford foster exclaimed,—

"what's that smell?"

"it's like burning hay, more than any thing else," replied frank.

"where can it come from, i'd like to know? we haven't had a light out at our barn."

"light?" exclaimed frank. "just look yonder!"

"why, it's that old barn, 'way beyond the morris and kinzer house.

somebody must have set it on fire. hullo! i thought i saw a man running.

come on, frank!"

there was indeed a man running just then; but they did not see him, for he was already very nearly across the field, and hidden by the darkness. he had known how to light a fire that would smoulder long enough for him to get away.

he was not running as well, nevertheless, as he might have done before he came under the operation of dab kinzer's "lower joint."

mrs. kinzer did her best to prevent any thing like a "scene" at the railway-station when ham and miranda came out upon the platform; but there was an immense amount of "welcome" expressed in words and hugs and kisses, in the shortest possible space of time. there was no lingering on the platform, however; for ham and his wife were as anxious to get at the "surprise" they were told was waiting for them, as their friends were to have them come to it.

before they were half way home, the growing light ahead of them attracted their attention; and then they began to hear the vigorous shouts of "fire!" from the throats of the two boys, re-enforced now by mr. foster himself, and the lawyer's voice was an uncommonly good one. dabney was driving the ponies, and they had to go pretty fast for the rest of that short run.

"surprise?" exclaimed ham. "i should say it was! did you light it before you started, dabney?"

"don't joke, hamilton," remarked mrs. kinzer. "it may be a very serious affair for all of us. but i can't understand how in all the world that barn should have caught fire."

"guess it was set a-going," said dab.