"You don't say? Dad always told me I'd end up in the poorhouse, but I didn't expect to get there so quick."
"You'd better get up and go down stairs. Fogson wouldn't like to have you stay here all night."
"Who's Fogson?"
"He is the manager of the poorhouse."
"Who cares for Fogson? I don't b'lieve Fogson is a gen'leman."
"Nor I," inwardly assented Jed.
This was the last word that he could get from the intruder, who coolly turned over and began to snore.
Fortunately for Jed, there was another cot bed—the one formerly occupied by the other boy—and he got into it.
Fatigued by the events of the day, Jed soon slept a sound and refreshing sleep. In fact his sleep was so sound that it is doubtful whether a thunderstorm would have awakened him.
Towards morning the occupant of the other bed turned in such a way as to lie on his back. This position, as my readers are probably aware, is conducive to heavy snoring, and the intruder availed himself of this to the utmost.