"
Then he fell to and ate ravenously.
The girl walked to the door and gazed uneasily down the road.
"Brother comin'?"
"I do not see him."
"What's your name?"
The tramp was inquisitive.
"Vane."
"Eh? Is that a fact?"
The stout fellow started and regarded the girl fixedly.
"Is the name a familiar one?" questioned the girl after a moment, anxious
to conciliate the man. Her nearest neighbor was at least a quarter mile
distant, and the house was concealed by a clump of trees, so that the
girl felt that she was at the mercy of this burly, ill-looking stranger,
should he attempt violence.
"Vane, Vane," he muttered. "Reckon I've heard the name before. And you're
Victory, I reckon?"
"Victoria."
"Exactly. Sister to Rance Vane. I know'd that chap onct, and I found him
not a man, but a scamp. I never liked the Vanes, father'n son. The old
man's dead, I s'pose?"
"Yes."
"How long sense?"
"More than a year."
"Good 'nough. He wa'nt o' much account."
The tramp's eyes seemed to become suddenly bloodshot. He shoved from the
table, and rose to his feet.
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