"Not before breakfast," protested the officer vigorously.
"As these boys' counsel, I advise them not to feed either you or your men," said the lawyer, with twinkling eyes. "They ought to punish you by sitting you in the corner and letting you watch the rest of us eat."
"That would be inhuman," declared the sheriff. "Um, man, just smell those fish frying and that coffee steaming."
At this moment Chris announced breakfast and all filed in to where the little negro had the table filled with fried fish, quail, ham and eggs, potatoes, hot corn bread and coffee. Silence reigned supreme as the hungry lawyer and his companions attacked the savory food. When at last they had satisfied their gnawing appetites the lawyer turned to the sheriff. "You can run along home now," he said. "Here's that paper I spoke about to show that everything's all right and proper. You can leave the boys with me now."
"I'm not sure but that I ought to take charge of their pocketbooks for them if you are going to remain here," said the sheriff, with a laugh.
"I'll promise that their pockets will be fuller when I leave them than they are now," said Mr. Bruce.
"All right, I'll go then," agreed the sheriff, with a grin. "So long, boys, and the best of luck to you."
"That's a true-blue old chap," remarked the lawyer, as the sheriff departed. "We joke pretty rough with each other sometimes, but I like him and I think he likes me."
"He is good and kind," Charley agreed. "Do you feel able to talk business now?"