saying in a hearty tone, which was a welcome in itself:

"I'm _real_ glad to see you safe and well, Mr. Brown! Come right in and
make yourself to home. I guess there isn't a happier boy living than Ben
is to-night."

"And I _know_ there isn't a gratefuler man living than I am for your
kindness to my poor forsaken little feller," answered Mr. Brown,
dropping both his burdens to give the comely woman's hands a hard shake.

"Now don't say a word about it, but sit down and rest, and we'll have
tea in less 'n no time. Ben must be tired and hungry, though he's so
happy I don't believe he knows it," laughed Mrs. Moss, bustling away to
hide the tears in her eyes, anxious to make things sociable and easy all
round.

With this end in view she set forth her best china, and covered the
table with food enough for a dozen, thanking her stars that it was
baking day, and everything had turned out well. Ben and his father sat
talking by the window till they were bidden to "draw up and help
themselves" with such hospitable warmth that everything had an extra
relish to the hungry pair.

Ben paused occasionally to stroke the rusty coat-sleeve with
bread-and-buttery fingers to convince himself that "Daddy" had really
come, and his father disposed of various inconvenient emotions by eating
as if food was unknown in California. Mrs. Moss beamed on every one from
behind the big tea-pot like a mild full moon, while Bab and Betty kept
interrupting one another in their eagerness to tell something new about
Ben and how Sanch lost his tail.