When they entered Jack's house, the old gentleman was in an excellent mood, and had been joking his son about his prowess as a homesteader. He viewed the interior with a quizzical gaze and seemed to locate everything at a glance. He removed his hat and coat, and after hanging them on a chair, rolled up his sleeves and began removing the lids from the stove. Jack watched him for a moment, then took the bucket and went to the well. When he returned, his father had the fire going.
"Pretty quick work, Dad," he said.
"It's not the first time, my boy," his father answered, and then he asked: "Where's the coffee?"
"In the box on the wall; I'll get it in a minute," said Jack. But his minute was too long, for his father got the can and was measuring out a handful of the contents before Jack finished washing his hands.
Jack watched him prepare the coffee, after which he fried some bacon and eggs, located some stale sourdough bread, and taking Jack's table cloth from the table, set the dishes on the bare boards, and setting back the chairs, pulled up a bench and an empty box, and looking at Jack nodded toward the table and said:
"Grub's ready."
"Comin' up," answered Jack. "Want some butter?"
"Nope, not with bacon grease," replied the old gentleman.
After they sat down to the meal, Mr. Norton helped himself and remarked: "This is the life." He quaffed the steaming coffee with a relish, and looking across the table, asked suddenly:
"How about the girl, Jack, who are these Gullys?"