“I wonder what they’ll do with ’em?” said Jack, crossing the room to the little old-fashioned mirror on the wall and smoothing his rumpled hair with a white comb he had found on the highboy in the corner.
“Why, Mr. Williams said that they would probably be taken to the County Seat and kept there until the County Court meets next month. Then they will likely be sent to jail for three or four years or even longer. I guess they’re a bad lot and the warden’s glad to get ’em under lock and key.”
“Well, come on. Let’s get downstairs. I’m nearly famished, and besides Old Mitchell will be waiting for us. I suppose he’s wondering now whether we’re going to sleep all day or not. The mist seems to have thinned out a little, but the sky looks mighty lowery, doesn’t it?” said Jack.
“Yes, I guess we’re in for a spell o’ weather,” answered his companion.
Ray’s sense of smell had not deceived him. There were clams for breakfast, great stacks of them, and hot biscuits and a pitcher of honey and still another of cream. And there were doughnuts, too, and coffee, and best of all the smiling face of Mrs. Williams and the genial countenance of the warden himself. He was already seated at the table, a big napkin tucked under his double chin, and Mrs. Williams, who was as tiny as her husband was ponderous, was heaping his plate with freshly fried clams.
“Good morning, boys,” she said with a smile, but before they could reply, the warden’s deep voice boomed out:
“Well, well, what do you fellers think this place is, one o’ those city houses that don’t wake up until nine o’clock? Jingonetties, why didn’t you sleep all day?”
“There, there, Will, don’t scold them. Poor lads, they’re tired. Here sit down in this comfortable chair. I’ll bring you some hot clams right away,” said Mrs. Williams, who was fond of pretending that her husband’s assumed gruffness frightened her when it really did not at all.
Those clams were truly wonderful. They fairly melted in Jack’s mouth and the honey and cream was the best he had ever tasted. Indeed, Jack could scarcely remember ever having enjoyed a breakfast quite so thoroughly as he did the one arranged by Mrs. Williams. And as for Ray, well, he said absolutely nothing at all, but the way he devoured the savory brown morsels that the good lady set before him was quite the best compliment he could have offered her. The boys had the appetites of young sharks, and since Mr. Williams was as busy as they at the same occupation, there was very little conversation. But the unfortunate part of a good meal is that one finally reaches the point where he can eat no more. Jack and Ray reached this period disappointingly soon. They were forced to suspend activities for sheer lack of room.
“Oh, what a good breakfast,” said Ray, with a sigh as he wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Shucks, I’m sorry I can’t stow away any more.”