“And I too, Tom.”
“And now I feel weak and exhausted. It has been an effort to drag myself along to-day. The fact is, machinery can’t be kept in working trim without fuel.”
“I realize that, too, Tom.”
“I presume father and mother have felt the same way, but I haven’t dared to ask them. They say ‘misery loves company,’ but when the companions in misery are your own father and mother, it doesn’t apply. Though I have to suffer myself, I wish they were spared the same privations that have undermined my strength.”
It will be seen that Tom was better educated than the majority of young men born and brought up in the country. He had attended an academy in a neighboring town for a year, and had for a season taught the district school at Crestville. Grant found him pleasant and instructive company.
That night, when they went to bed, they were utterly without food. What were to be their experiences on the morrow they could not foresee, but there was plenty of room for grave apprehension.
“Grant, if we can get no food, I have decided what we must do,” said Tom, as they lay down to rest at a short distance from each other.
“What is it, Tom? Have you thought of anything?”
“Yes; I suppose you know that horseflesh, though not to be compared with beef, is still palatable?”
“Yes.”