I've been a
tramp fur a year, and I 'lowed I'd run onter ye sometime, but 'twas all
unexpected when I seed the gal t'other day."
"And you murdered her, murdered my sister?"
"Wal, 'twould a-b'en justice ef I had."
"Oh, you wretch--"
"'Twont do no good to call names, pard; they never hurted anybody yet 'at
I knows of," sneered the tramp, still holding his knife ready for instant
use.
The slender frame of Ransom Vane trembled, and his white hands were
clinched fiercely. He well understood the vicious nature of the man
before him, however, and realized that a movement of aggression on his
part would lead to his own doom.
Now, more than ever, was he convinced that Perry Jounce was the one
guilty of the death of poor Victoria. Vane was placed in a terrible
position just then. The tramp had him completely in his power, and it
might be that he meditated another murder.
"Perry Jounce, listen to me."
The young man forced a calmness he did not feel, while speaking to the
man before him.
"Perceed, Rans, old boy."
"Why did you murder an innocent child like my poor Victoria? Surely she
had not harmed you.
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