"Come in here!" roared the captor, enforcing his order with a ferocious tug at the blue collar.
Samuel feared that he had somehow trespassed upon the big man's rights, and that punishment was likely to follow. He longed vaguely to run, but weakness held him chained, and he felt himself being pushed before his jailer through the toy-shop and into a small parlor at the rear.
"Mother! This Blue Coat is so hungry that he nearly devoured our dinner through his eyes as the baker brought it in."
"Hungry?" echoed a piping feminine voice, and from the farther corner of the parlor a little woman approached with a napkin thrown over her arm.
"Sakes alive, ain't you had no dinner over to the school?" she asked in a motherly tone that set Samuel's heart beating.
"No. We don't have any dinner on Saturdays. They give us a little supper when we go back," and Samuel explained the holiday system.
"What, then, did you have for breakfast?"
"A slice of bread and a cup of beer."
"How perfectly outraging! Our dinner is just ready, so sit up to the table as quick as you can. 'Tain't a fancy meal, but it's good enough to fill up a hollow, faintin' stomach. How perfectly outraging!"
Before Samuel could consent or object, he was thrust into a chair at the small round table, where several steaming dishes awaited the pleasure of the party. Host and hostess took their places, and a heaped-up plate was speedily set before the astonished guest.