He
saw, too, that he was strong and well built, and not
over thirty years of age.
"You work here?" continued the stranger, mounting
the steps and coming closer, his eyes taking in
Tod, the porch, and the view of the sitting-room
through the open window.
"I do," answered Tod in the same tone, his eyes
still on the man's face.
"Good job, is it?" he asked, unbuttoning his
coat.
"I get enough to eat," answered Tod curtly, "and
enough to do." He had resumed his position against
the jamb of the door and stood perfectly impassive,
without offering any courtesy of any kind. Strangers
who asked questions were never very welcome. Then,
again, the inquiry about his private life nettled
him.
The man, without noticing the slight rebuff, looked
about for a seat, settled down on the top step of the
porch, pulled his cap from his head, and wiped the
sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand.
Then he said slowly, as if to himself:
"I took the wrong road and got consid'able het
up."
Tod watched him while he mopped his head with a
red cotton handkerchief, but made no reply. Curiosity
is not the leading characteristic of men who
follow the sea.
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