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Rh somebody," said Dave. "He appeared to be a reliable man."

The boys talked to Mrs. Carmody for a few minutes longer. They were on the point of leaving the house when there came a loud rap on the front door.

"Perhaps Blower has come back!" cried Phil.

"I don't think he'd knock," answered Dave.

"No, it isn't Abe," said Mrs. Carmody. "I'll go and see who it is."

She went to the door and opened it,—to find herself confronted by a tall, leathery-looking individual whose breath smelt strongly of liquor.

"Is Abe Blower home?" demanded the man, in a thick voice.

"No, he isn't," replied Mrs. Carmody, stiffly. She did not like the appearance of the visitor.

"When will he be home?" went on the man, and tried to force his way into the house.

"I don't know. You can't come in here, Sol Blugg!" And Mrs. Carmody tried to shut the door in the man's face.

"I am a-comin' in," stormed the newcomer. "I'm a-comin' in to wait fer Abe Blower, an' when I meet him—well, we'll have an account to settle," and the man lurched heavily against the door frame.

"It's one of the fellows we met on the train!" whispered Phil. "The fellow called Sol Blugg!"