“Rent’ll be five pounds of bass, live weight, to be paid every Thursday. I’ll come after it.” He pounded on the porch with his cane again and bellowed: “Ma, I’ve rented the hotel. Got the fixin’s for four beds?”
“Got the fixin’s for forty,” says Ma Ames from the back of the house somewheres. “Attic’s full of beddin’ from that tarnation summer-resort place.”
“There.... How about dishes and cookin’-tools, ma?”
“Barn loft’s full of ’em.”
“Want to move in right away, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” says Mark.
“Haul you and your stuff out to-morrow. Included in the rent,” says Mr. Ames.
Mark started in to thank him, and so did the rest of us, but it made him bashful and fidgety and you could see he didn’t like it. Just in the middle of it Ma Ames called, “Supper,” and in we went to one of the best and biggest meals of victuals I ever tried to get the best of.
CHAPTER II
Next morning Mr. Ames got us out of bed before a rooster had time to crow. He had the wagon all loaded and the horses hitched when we got down-stairs, and all there was for us to do was to pile on.