"Isn't that rather steep for a poorhouse breakfast?"
"You will not eat with the paupers, of course, but at a private table, with Mrs. Fogson and myself."
"All right! Your offer is accepted."
Mr. Fogson brought up the comforter, and the visitor resumed the slumbers which had been so unceremoniously interrupted.
The sun rose early, and when its rays crept in through the side window both Jed and his companion were awake.
"I say, boy, come over here and share my bed. I want to talk to you."
Jed's curiosity was excited, and he accepted the invitation.
He found his roommate to be a good-looking young man of perhaps thirty, and with a pleasant expression.
"So you are Jed?" he asked.