"Not John Barclay's son ?" It was Ben's turn to be surprised.

He was the son of John Barclay, deceased, but how could his ill-favored traveling companion know that?
"Did you know my father ?" asked the boy, astonished.
"I've heerd his name," answered the tramp, in an evasive tone.
"What is your name ?" asked Ben, feeling that be had a right to be as curious as his companion.
"I haven't got any visitin' cards with me," answered the tramp dryly.
"Nor I; but I told you my name." "All right; I'll tell you mine.

You can call me Jack Frost." "I gave you my real name," said Ben significantly.
"I've almost forgotten what my real name is," said the tramp.

"If you don't like Jack Frost, you can call me George Washington." Ben laughed.
"I don't think that name would suit, he said.

George Washington never told a lie." "What d'ye mean by that ?" demanded the tramp, his brow darkening.
"I was joking," answered Ben, who did not care to get into difficulty with such a man.
"I'm going to joke a little myself," growled the tramp, as, looking quickly about him, he observed that they were riding over a lonely section of the road lined with woods.