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A VINDICTIVE TRAMP
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ness on the part of the tramp that he did not know what to do. Then, before he could recover himself, the tramp darted into the bushes.
"I guess Happy Harry—dat's me—has spoiled your ride t' Albany!" the tramp cried. "Maybe next time youse won't run down poor fellers on de road," and with that, the ragged man, shaking his fist at Tom, was lost to sight in the under-brush.
"Well, if that isn't a queer end up," mused Tom. "He must be crazy. I hope I don't meet you again, Happy Harry, or whatever your name is. Guess I'll get out of this neighborhood."
