"Then perhaps we can make it do. I'll just get it ready, and cook it myself. I've knocked about in all sorts of places, and it won't be the first time I've served as cook. I've traveled some since I saw you last."
"Have you?" said the old man, who seemed more interested in the untimely death of the pullet than in his nephew's adventures.
"Yes, I've been everywhere. I spent a year in Australia at the gold diggings."
"Did you find any?" asked his uncle, for the first time betraying interest.
"Some, but I didn't bring away any."
Ben Haley meanwhile was rapidly stripping the chicken of its feathers. When he finished, he said, "Now tell me where you keep your vegetables, Uncle Paul?"
"They're in the corn barn. You can't get in. It's locked."
"Where's the key?"
"Lost."
"I'll get in, never fear," said the intruder, and he led the way to the corn barn, his uncle unwillingly following and protesting that it would be quite impossible to enter.