Ramsay stood in the kitchen of the Lake House, and by the light of an oil lamp piled the last of what had been a mountain of dishes, into warm water. There must, he thought, have been thousands of them, but there were only a few more and he dropped one of those. Instantly the woman who had served him popped into the kitchen.
"Must you be so clumsy?"
"It is the only dish I have broken out of all I have washed," Ramsay said. "Don't you think I have paid off my dinner by this time?"
"You knew the price before you ordered."
"The way you've had me working since, I earned the whole cow. Haven't I repaid you, with perhaps a bonus of a sandwich for supper?"
"Sit down, kid," the woman said gruffly.
She brought him a sandwich, huge slices of fluffy homemade bread between which thick slices of beef nestled, and a bowl of milk. Ramsay ate hungrily, and after he had finished his hostess talked to him. "You're the youngster Devil Chad beat up, aren't you?"
"I tripped," Ramsay said grimly.
"Devil Chad trips 'em all. You're crazy if you think you can get away with anything. Best thing you can do is leave."
Ramsay said, "I guess I'm just naturally crazy."