“I thank you,” said Ezra.
He made his way to the place indicated. It was a two-storied, clean-looking place with a sanded floor, polished oaken tables and a stout, white-aproned landlord.
A thin man, with a straw in his mouth, took the horse, and Ezra entered the inn. At once his eye fell upon Ben Cooper, seated at a table, with a rasher of bacon and a dish of eggs before him.
“Hello,” said Ben, pausing in his attack on the provisions. “You’ve got here at last, have you? I’d almost given up hope of you for the night, and so ordered my supper.”
“And very good it looks,” said Ezra, regarding hungrily the bacon, the eggs, the huge white loaf and the great square of golden butter.
The stout landlord approached, wiping his hands upon his apron. He smiled in a pleased fashion at Ezra’s words.
“Can I bring you some, young gentleman?” asked he, good-humoredly. “The bacon is most excellent. It has just the faintest tang of the smoke in it, and that adds vastly to its flavor. The eggs are fresh laid; the bread is our own baking, and the butter of this countryside is the best in all the colony, perhaps.”
“How could I say no, after that?” laughed Ezra. “As you put it, it is really fascinating. But first I’ll have some water, a towel and soap.”
In a little while, freshened up with these latter articles, he was seated opposite Ben, with the wholesome food before him and doing it the justice that its excellent qualities deserved.
“I don’t know how you found it,” said Ben, as their meal proceeded, “but the people along the road I took are heart and soul with the colony. Almost everywhere, I heard of men settling their affairs that they might be off to the army.”