better days.

As the boys entered Old Ben rose, stretched his large, gaunt frame, and
cried, "Howdy, fellers, must o' started day afore yestedy, didn't ye?
Took ye tarnal long to git here, anyhow. Supper's ben ready these two
hours. Me'n the critter 'n Tad is most starved a waitin'. Hello, Mr.
Allen, where'd ye git this lively bunch o' fellers, anyhow? D' they all
b'long to ye? Come along, Tad, er these dratted youngsters 'll eat all
yer grub fer ye." This as the fellows seated themselves about the table.

Tad, by the aid of a crutch, hobbled from the lean-to kitchen and
took his seat at the table nearest the fire. Old Ben served the
meal--beefsteak, baked potatoes, hot corn muffins, and gravy, apple
sauce, pickles, and coffee that fairly filled the room with its
fragrance.

"Drat me for a young squirrel if you fellers ain't the hungriest bunch o'
yearlin's I ever set eyes on," muttered Ben as he hurried back and forth
from table to kitchen supplying the urgent demand.

After the last drop of coffee had disappeared, the meeting was called to
order around the table and the business of the evening was gotten under
way. Willis, for the first time, found it difficult to pay attention to
what Allen had to say. He was watching Old Ben and his friend as they sat
by the fire, chatting and smoking, the very picture of contentment. Now
and then a little of their conversation would reach him, but he could not
make head nor tail of it. At the supper table the man with the crutch had
eyed Willis many times. In his manner there was something that seemed to
be so very familiar, yet his face, which was covered with a several
weeks' beard, was strange to Willis.