"We will go to the kitchen and make a fire," said Dawn. "You must have breakfast, too. You have had a long, hard ride."
"Yes, breakfast!" barked Rags impolitely.
Charles grew grave at once.
"Now, Dawn, you must not go near that house again. You have been sufficiently exposed already. Dan and I will bring you some breakfast. I don't like the idea of your eating anything that comes out of that house. It isn't safe. Couldn't we make a little fire there at the edge of the woods and warm that broth? If we had a tin dish——"
"There's a long-handled saucepan in the kitchen," said Dawn. "I'll go and get it."
"You'll stay right here," said Dan, in his kindly, gruff way. "I'll go and get it."
Before they could stop him, he had gone, and in a few minutes he returned with a pail of water, a tea-kettle, a saucepan, and three cups. Then he gathered sticks, and he and Charles made the fire, rigging up a kind of crane to hold the kettle. Soon they had hot water to pour over the dishes, and then Dawn heated the broth, and they each had a good cupful. Even Rags had a few spoonfuls, though he sat up quite politely at a word from Dan, with his head cocked sideways, and a knowing look, as much as to say, "Serve yourselves first, and I'll lick the dishes."
After all, it was Dan who did everything for them. He told Charles that it was best he should stay with his wife and guard her. There was no telling but she might get sick or something, and it was not safe for her to be left alone just now. Besides, it was Charles's business to care for her, and for that reason he must keep out of danger himself. What would happen to Dawn if Charles should get the cholera?
"But you might get it yourself, Dan, and we'd never forgive ourselves."
"Aw!" said Dan, turning away in scorn. "Don't you worry 'bout me."