"What have we got for supper, boys?" he asks, for the procuring of
supplies has fallen to them.

"Here are a dozen eggs," said Henry Bounton, his cousin.

"And here is a loaf of bread, which I got at the baker's," said his
friend.

"That's good! We'll have bread and fried eggs. There is nothing better
than that."

"Eggs have gone up a cent a dozen," remarks Henry, gravely.

This news is received seriously, for a cent means something to them.
Probably even then the price was not greater than six to eight cents a
dozen, for prices were low in the West at that time.

"Then we can't have them so often," said James, philosophically, "unless
we get something to do."

"There's a carpenter's-shop a little way down the street," said Henry.
"I guess you can find employment there."

"I'll go round there after supper."

Meanwhile he attended to his duty as cook, and in due time each of the
boys was supplied with four fried eggs and as much bread as he cared
for. Probably butter was dispensed with, as too costly a luxury, until
more prosperous times.