This was voted a good idea, and, when the landing had been made, and a hasty examination showed that the ship had suffered no great damage from the passage over the fire, the young inventor and Mr. Damon started off.
They soon found a good road, leading to town, and tramped along it in the early evening. The few persons they met paid little attention to them, save to bow in a friendly fashion, and, occasionally wish them good evening.
"I wonder where we are?" asked Tom, as they hurried along.
"In some southern town, to judge by the voices of the people, and the number of colored individuals we've met," answered Mr. Damon.
"Let's ask," suggested Tom.
"No, if you do they'll know we're strangers, and they may ask a lot of questions."
"Oh, I guess if it's a small place they'll know we're strangers soon enough," commented Tom. "But when we get to the village itself we can read the name on the store windows."
A few minutes later found them in the midst of a typical southern town. It was Berneau, North Carolina, according to the signs, they saw.
"Here's a restaurant," called Tom, as they passed a neat-appearing one. "Let's go inside and get some supper before we buy our supplies."
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Bless my flapjacks, but I am beginning to feel hungry."