"You don't have far to go for fuel," was the next remark of our hero.
"Any fool might see that," said the woman.
"Not very polite," thought Walter.
He relapsed into silence, judging that his hostess did not care to converse. Soon, however, she began to ask questions.
"Did you say you was a book-peddler?" she inquired.
"I am a book-agent."
"Where are your books,—in that carpet-bag?"
"No, I have sold all my books, and sent for some more."
"Where did you sell them?"