Presently Tom checked his whistle.
A stranger was before him-a boy a shade larger than himself.
A new-comer of any age or either sex was an im-pressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St.
Petersburg.
This boy was well dressed, too-well dressed on a week-day.
This was simply astounding.
His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons.
He had shoes on-and it was only Friday.
He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of ribbon.
He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals.