"That's a queer way to eat sugar," said Quigg, happening to notice the move.
"Goes pretty good that way, though," returned Ralph, determined to martyr his palate rather than own up to any further ignorance.
He was already beginning to divine the primitive nature of his native manner of life, but the consciousness of this fact only strengthened his desire to familiarize himself with these strange usages.
Quigg laughed, then resumed his reverie.
After the meal was over, Ralph washed the dishes, while the artist made up his bed and otherwise tidied up the car.
Two window sash of unusual size attracted the lad's attention.
"Those are my skylights," said Quigg. "You might polish them up a bit after we leave Hendersonville. That is, if you are going on further."
Ralph had no definite idea as to where he wanted to go, except that he thought of Captain Shard. Regardless of Mrs. Dopples' warning, he now said that he had a notion of going on to Columbia.
"All right," responded Quigg, who liked Ralph's appearance the more he saw of him. "Go on with me. You can help me for your keep until something better offers. I shall stay in Columbia a week, then strike for the coast. What say?"
Ralph assented gladly, and thought himself lucky in being afforded so easy a chance to get forward. Presently he was rubbing away upon the skylights, while Mr. Quigg produced a cornet from somewhere among his belongings, and played sundry doleful airs with indifferent skill, until the train arrived at Hendersonville.