The ashes in the fireplace were warm, though no live coals were there. There were two rooms to the place, the rear one having a bunk fastened to the side of the wall and an oil stove standing on a box opposite the bunk.
“Here’s food, anyhow,” said the taller of the two, picking up a can of goods to look at it and to determine whether it was empty. “And there’s some more under the bunk! Look!”
The tramps pulled all of it out without further ceremony, and then poked around into all the corners of the place, learning what else might be waiting for their very ready hands.
“’Tain’t so good as the place we had, but I don’t guess the landlord will come around so soon, either,” Snadder smiled pleasantly at his humor.
“Warm ashes in the fireplace says the landlord has been here,” whispered Blinky. “Wouldn’t be surprised but he’s out hunting a little game, or maybe there’s more than one landlord.”
“Well, we’ll just pretend we’re invited to this place and we’ll make a fire and have some coffee.”
Snadder lighted the oil stove, placed the coffee pot thereon, and the two tramps started a blaze in the fireplace of the front room, determined that whatever comfort could be gotten they would enjoy at once.
“Gosh, look!” said Snadder, as he looked out of the window and pointed toward a clump of trees only a half a hundred yards away, in the center of which another cabin, much larger than this, nestled comfortably.
No indication of life, no smoke issuing from the chimney, and a much larger and more commodious place than the one in which they were.
“Looks like we’re sons of Old Lady Luck,” he laughed, rubbing his hands in front of the fire.