“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve found something to eat.”
On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a stale loaf beside it.
“Pitch in, Joe,” said Joshua. “I’m as hungry as a wolf.”
“This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it.”
“Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can find.”
“Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?”
“We’ll eat first and fight afterward.”
Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua’s arguments, and he joined in the banquet.
“This bread is dry as a chip,” said Mr. Bickford. “But no matter. I never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now.”