"But perhaps you know something about telephones?" suggested Frank, casually.
He was surprised to see the tramp actually turn red in the face, though just why he should was a complete mystery.
"Why, yes, I did uster to have somethin' to do with 'em long ago. What got that idee in your head. Frank?" asked the man, quickly.
"Only because the clerk in the drug store said you acted as if you belonged to the repair gang that was up here a week ago. He had an idea you might be," replied Frank.
"Socrates hit it wrong, then, Socrates did," said the other, with a half grin; and then one of his lines gave evidence of having a fish fast he started to draw it in hand over hand, until he threw upon the ice a fine plump pickerel that would weigh at least two pounds.
"If 'twas later I'd ask you boys to stop over and have a bite of camp fare with me; but p'raps you wouldn't hanker much after such grub as I could set before you. When a feller has only his appetite along he don't care much about fancy fixin's. All he wants is enough to eat and drink. I've been a tramp a long time now, and yet I'd quit to-morrow if I only could get the chanct. I'm right sick of it all."
Bill went on to relate some of his queer experiences
