Being satisfied now that he could pass himself off anywhere for White-horse Fred, he boldly pushed open the door and found himself in the presence of two rough-looking men, who were stretched out on benches, with their saddles under their heads for pillows.
At one end of the room was a table, made of unplaned boards, upon which was a goodly supply of corn-bread and bacon, a tin plate with a fork beside it, and a quart cup, which a villainous-looking Mexican, who entered from another door just as Julian came in from the stable, was filling with very black-looking coffee. The men on the benches greeted him with rude cordiality, the Mexican bowed to him, and Julian, assuming an air of carelessness and indifference that he was very far from feeling, threw his sombrero into one corner of the room and seated himself at the table.
The nervousness and timidity he felt on first entering the room very soon began to wear away. The men, after making some coarse jests concerning his new clothes, entered into a lively conversation with him, and asked a multitude of questions about persons and places which Julian had never seen or heard of. From some remarks they let fall he found out why they were so inquisitive. They were obliged to remain in that cabin month in and month out, scarcely over stirring beyond the threshold; they never saw any new faces except those of the captain and the two agents who brought the stolen property there and took it away again; and they knew nothing of what was going on in the outside world except what their visitors told them. Julian gratified their curiosity by relating a very few things that had happened that day in Smirker’s cabin, and a good many things that had not happened. He repeated every word that had been told him about the “captain’s cub,” in the hope that the men would tell him the rest of the story, but in this he was disappointed. They expressed unbounded delight at the intelligence, but said, somewhat fiercely, that Smirker ought to have held his tongue.
But little was said after this. The men having listened to all Julian had to tell them, rearranged their blankets and prepared to go to sleep; and the boy, being left to himself, gave his whole attention to the corn-bread and bacon. When he finished his supper and arose from the table, the robbers were both snoring lustily.
“What’s the next thing on the programme, I wonder?” soliloquized Julian, who, not knowing what else to do, walked about the room looking at the weapons which hung upon the wall. “I am afraid to make a move in any direction for fear I shall act so unlike White-horse Fred that somebody will suspect me. I’ll stroll around a little and see what sort of a place I have got into.”
The Mexican who had served up the supper came in at this moment to clear away the dishes, and when he went out again, Julian walked to the door through which he disappeared, and stood there looking about him, and wondering if it would be safe to venture beyond it. It led into a long, narrow hall, at the opposite end of which was a second door that communicated with the kitchen. This door was open, and the sounds that issued from the room told him that the Mexican was engaged in washing the supper dishes.
After a moment’s pause Julian kept slowly on, intending to take a peep into the kitchen; but when he had gone about half-way through the hall, he saw another door at his left hand, which he had not before noticed. It was open, and led into a room which presented a great contrast to the one Julian had just left.
“He sat by the table, with his head resting upon his hand.”