"All the same I want some cider," said the tramp, impudently.

"I have no cider," answered Mrs. Cole, shortly.

"A pretty farmhouse this is, without cider," growled the tramp. "You
can make me some coffee, then!"

"Who are you to order me round in my own house?" demanded Mrs. Cole,
angrily. "One would think you took this for a hotel."

"I take it for what I please," said the tramp.

"If my husband were here you wouldn't dare to talk to me like this!"

It was an unguarded admission, made on the impulse of the moment,
and Mrs. Cole felt its imprudence as soon as she had uttered the
words, but it was too late to recall them.

"Where is your husband?" asked the tramp, his face lighting up with
a gleam of exultation.

"Near by," answered Mrs. Cole, evasively; but her visitor saw that
this was not correct.

"How much money have you in the house?" he demanded, abruptly.

"Money?" gasped the farmer's wife, turning pale.

"Yes, money! Didn't I speak plain enough?" asked the tramp, angrily.