She led the way into a bright, cheerful sitting room, where there was a big wood fire blazing on the hearth. She bustled around and saw that they were comfortably seated before the fire. Then Bobby explained their errand.
“I suppose we’re sort of tramps ourselves,” he said with the winning smile that always gained for him instant liking. “But we were on the train and it got stalled over there in the gulch on account of the snow. We hadn’t brought any lunch with us and we thought we’d come over here and see if we could buy something to eat.”
“You poor starved boys!” she exclaimed with as ready a sympathy as though she had been the mother of them all. “Of course you can have all you want to eat. It’s too early for dinner yet, as Mr. Wilson—that’s my husband—went to town this morning and will be a little late in getting back. But I’ll get up something for you right away. You just sit here and get warmed through and I’ll have it on the table in a jiffy.”
“Don’t go to too much trouble,” put in Bobby. “Anything will do.”
She was off at once, and they heard the cheerful clatter of pans and dishes in the adjoining kitchen.
The boys stretched out luxuriously before the fire and looked at each other in silent ecstasy.
“Talk about luck,” murmured Mouser.
“All we want to eat,” repeated Pee Wee.
“She didn’t know you when she said that,” chaffed Fred. “I don’t believe there’s enough in the house to fill that contract.”
“Pee Wee will have to go some to get ahead of me,” chimed in Bobby.