“True,” she answered. “I remember my niece Mary Ann looked the very picture of health when she came here to visit me, and before she was here a week she took down sick with liver complaint and nearly died.”
“Just so, madam,” said Vance, with an amused smile.
“I hope you won’t be sick, young man,” she continued anxiously; “but if you should be, I can recommend my nephew, who is the best doctor in town.”
“I’ll bear your relative in mind if I should need his services,” replied the boy, stifling a grin.
“I s’pose you feel kind of hungry, don’t you? Come by the train, didn’t you?”
Vance admitted that he could eat a trifle if she would be so good as to prepare something.
“The fire is out, but I can light it up again. I can’t promise you any delicacies, but we don’t stint ourselves. I’m right glad to get a boarder these hard times, and will make you feel at home. It’s a wonder you didn’t go right to the hotel, though if you can’t afford it you’ve done right to come here.”
If the lady was surprised at Vance’s healthy appetite, she discreetly made no reference to it, beyond remarking that she was glad to see he enjoyed the meal.
Vance was up early next morning, and after a satisfactory breakfast sallied out on a tour of observation.
The place wore a dormant air, a surprising fact for a western river town.