"Sit down," said the woman. "I'll scare you up something in a jiffy."
"I'll sit down outside, if you don't mind," answered Rupert.
He sat down on a settee on one side of the door. Soon the odor of some meat which was being fried assailed his nostrils, and gave him the keenest delight.
In about twenty minutes Sal called him in, and he was glad to accept her rather unceremonious invitation.
On the table was a dish of meat. He didn't know what kind it was, but it smelled good. On another plate was some corn bread, but no butter was provided.
"We ain't got no whiskey," said the woman. "We're sort o' run out, but I can give you some tea."
"That will do just as well, madam."
Rupert might have said that it would do better, but he saw that the family were not prohibitionists and might take offense if he spoke against the use of whiskey.
Rupert had seldom enjoyed a meal more than the one he sat down to in that rude cabin.
"What kind of meat is this?" he asked.