Altogether they had a delightful meal, and what was even better, there
was an abundance to give every one three bountiful helpings, which fact
pleased Bandy-legs and Steve in particular. The former, on passing his
plate--for they actually had such articles at this wonderful lodge under
the pines--for the third help, excused himself by remarking aside:

"It's queer what a _terrible_ appetite toting a pack a few miles over a
carry gives a fellow. Now, at home I'm generally satisfied with one
portion, but once let me get into the harness, and I seem to have no end
of _capacity_. Say, I'd eat you out of house and home, Obed, if I stayed
very long at your ranch."

"No danger o' that, I guess, Bandy-legs," replied the other, for he had
of course taken quite naturally to calling these new friends by their
customary names, just as boys always do get on quick terms of
familiarity. "Last time I went to town I laid in quite a wheen o' stuff.
Then there's always the crick to git trout outen; and in a short time
you could shoot pa'tridges without breakin' the game laws. So don't let
that worry yuh any. I'm on'y too tickled to have some fellers around. It
does git kinder lonely here, sometimes, I own up."

"Whew! I should think it would, Obed," said Steve, lost in admiration
for the amazing nerve displayed by the woods boy in remaining all by
himself, winter and summer, seldom, if ever, seeing a human face, and
apparently devoting all his energies to making his fur farm experiment
turn out to be a success. "Nothing would tempt me to stick it out here a
whole winter. Why, I'd die of the blues, and let the black foxes go to
the dickens, while I made break for the nearest town, so I could hear
the sound of a human voice."