"Which?" exclaimed the host.
"We want a good wash," explained Leon.
"Oh! Why didn't you say so? There is the sink, and plenty of towels and soap," said the man, nodding his head toward a corner of the room. "Pitch in as soon as you please."
With this remark, the proprietor—as if he considered that he had done his full duty toward his new guests—returned to his place behind the bar.
CHAPTER XXIII. A FRIENDLY HUNTER.
The boys walked up to the sink and took a survey of it. It contained two tin basins. Several pieces of hard soap were deposited upon a little shelf over it, and the towels looked as though they had done service for weeks.
"I have been used to better things than these," said Frank, who could hardly bring himself to touch one of the dingy basins.
"So have I," answered Leon; "but what's the good of growling? When you get out to the mountains you'll have to wash your hands and face in a brook, and dry them upon a piece of buckskin. We've got to rough it—that's what we came out here for—and we might as well begin now as a month later. We'll get used to it by the time we are settled as hunters."