“Of course,” Bob assured him. “You don’t think we’re going to let you feed us for nothing?”
“That’s all right, then,” said Jerry, looking vastly relieved. “We got some bacon and if you say so I’ll fry you some in a jiffy.”
The boys howled approval.
“You see,” continued Jerry, “I was most skeered to give you bacon ’cause dad would have missed it when he got back. Dad ain’t got much money, an’ I guess he wouldn’t like me to be too free with the victuals. But if you’re willin’ to pay——”
“Sure, we’ll pay,” said Bob.
So Jerry set a frying pan on top of the stove, touched a match to the pile of straw and corncobs inside, and produced a strip of bacon from the larder. Even Bob, who prided himself on his culinary abilities, had to pay tribute to Jerry’s deftness. In ten minutes the first panful of crisp bacon was ready and a second lot was sizzling on the stove.
“Talk about your reed birds!” said Dan eloquently.
“Never tasted anything better in my life,” said Nelson. “Is there any more milk there?”
Ten minutes later the banquet was a thing of the past, and the four sat back and sighed luxuriously.
“That was sure fine,” said Dan. “My, but I was hungry!”