“Well, what of it?” asked Ned.
“It’s hardly big enough for us. Let’s wait till that man comes out. I don’t like his looks, anyway. He has his hat on,” declared Tavia.
They all saw the man in question. He was a black-browed and broad-hatted stranger, and he sat at a table in the little eating place, staring out through the window with a frown on his brow. He was not an attractive looking man at all.
“I bet he has a bad conscience!” exclaimed Nat.
“Or indigestion,” chimed in his brother.
“He won’t eat us,” said Dorothy, doubtfully. “If we do go in——”
“I say, Mammy!” cried Tavia, to the smiling colored woman. “Do you do the cooking?”
“’Deed an’ I do, Missie,” declared the woman. “An’ I got de freshes’ catfish dat eber come out o’ de ribber. An’ light beaten’ biscuit—an’ co’npone, an’ all de odder fixin’s.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Nat, smacking his lips.
“But can’t we have the place to ourselves?” complained Tavia. “If that man was only gone!”