“I’d rather bunk in with you, if you don’t mind,” said Stackpole to Harry. “I don’t feel easy in the same room with Fletcher.”
“We shall be very glad of your company, Mr. Stackpole.”
“If I snore, just come and turn me over. I don’t want to disturb nobody.”
“I think Jack and I will be too sound asleep to be disturbed by your snoring,” said Harry, with a laugh. “However, if there is any occasion, I will follow your directions.”
The landlord was a broad-shouldered man of moderate stature, who had lost the sight of one eye. The other, being covered with a green shade, gave him an ill look. His manner, however, was hearty, and showed a bluff, offhand cordiality, as he welcomed the party to the hospitalities of the Travellers’ Rest. He was familiarly called “Larry” by Fletcher, who greeted him like an old comrade.
The supper consisted in part of their own supplies, with some small additions from the larder of the inn. It was, at any rate, an improvement upon their camp fare, and the boys enjoyed it.
After supper they sat down on a settle in front of the inn, but presently Fletcher strayed away into the woods at the back of the house. Some fifteen minutes later Larry Linton also got up, but ostentatiously went in a different direction.
“I’m going a little ways to a squatter’s to speak about some vegetables,” he said.
“If you don’t mind company, I’ll go along too,” said Obed.
“Better not,” answered Larry. “There’s a boggy spot which a stranger is likely to fall into.”