A turn in the lane laid bare a broad expanse of lawn, interspersed with ornamental trees and shrubbery, beyond which stood a long, rambling house of brown-shingled walls and numerous red chimneys. Farther off were stables and barns. From the chimneys the smoke arose straight into the still air, suggesting warmth and good cheer. The boys paused and looked longingly across the lawn.
“Shall we try it?” asked Allan.
“Sure!” Pete said. “I’m so hungry I could eat cedar bark.”
“But what will they think?” Allan demurred. “It isn’t as though it were a farmhouse, you know.”
“That’s all right; the sweller the folks the better the rations. Come on; let’s cut across here.”
“We’ll just ask for some bread and a glass of milk,” suggested Allan.
“Bread and milk? Ginger! I’ve got to have pie and hot coffee!”
“But we’ll go to the back door, won’t we?”
“Like tramps? Not a bit of it. We’ll go to the front. What was the name he told us?”