“Be my guest,” said the camp-marshal.
“But when a guest has eaten, he is free to go out, if he wishes to!”
“I will let you know about that before you get through.”
“Well, be quick. I'm a rapid eater.”
“You'll promise you won't go away before that?”
“If I do,” was Hal's laughing reply, “it will be only to my place of business. You can look for me at the tipple, Cotton!”
SECTION 21.
The marshal went out, and a few moments later the jailer came back, with a meal which presented a surprising contrast to the ones he had previously served. There was a tray containing cold ham, a couple of soft boiled eggs, some potato salad, and a cup of coffee with rolls and butter.
“Well, well!” said Hal, condescendingly. “That's even nicer than beefsteak and mashed potatoes!” He sat and watched, not offering to help, while the other made room for the tray on the table in front of him. Then the man stalked out, and Hal began to eat.
Before he had finished, the camp-marshal returned. He seated himself in his revolving chair, and appeared to be meditative. Between bites, Hal would look up and smile at him.