"Start earlier next time, Bandy-legs!" crowed the proud possessor of the
coveted seat, as he spread himself so as to occupy it all. "But after
I've tried it out I'll vacate, because I expect to get busy in that
bully little kitchen, and help friend Obed sling the grub for dinner."

So Bandy-legs had to content himself with a seat on the couch. He might
have been observed sniffing the air with avidity, however, as though he
had caught some enticing odor stealing out of the oven of the cook
stove, that was not unlike fresh bread being well browned; and there was
nothing Bandy-legs loved better than the crust part of a fresh
baking--he always had a compact with the cook at home to save him the
"run-over" portions, which he looked upon as a prize well worth having.

Soon Obed left them there in the larger room and vanished within the
kitchen. It was a challenge to Steve which he could not long resist.
Bandy-legs kept watching him glance toward the connecting doors. His
whole manner was that of a boy who, although making no sound, might be
"sicking" one dog on another. No sooner had Steve left the capacious
fireside chair than Bandy-legs slipped into it; and after that he was
not meaning' to be dislodged until the summons came to gather about the
table to discuss the midday meal. Bandy-legs liked eating as well as the
next one; but he loved his ease more, and was well content to have some
other fellow do the hard work of getting the meal ready; his time would
come when he had to "work his jaws" in disposing of his portion of the
spread.

The more Max looked about him the greater his wonder became. All manner
of thoughts surged through that active mind of his. He had already
conceived the greatest sort of secret admiration for the extraordinary
woods boy, even before he had glimpsed that remarkable fur farm which