town. Not a word. You stay with Emmons. In the morning I will let
you know of a plan I am considering. It may be good for you."

Captain Shard gathered up his reins, nodded carelessly, and went off
down the street in a small cloud of dust.

Ralph went into the stable, not seeing clearly how to refuse, though
hardly at ease in his mind. As he stood in the doorway, looking along
a double line of vehicles of all sorts backed against the wall, a
hoarse voice bade him come into the office.

"Rather a small hole, but large enough for two," remarked Emmons from a
high stool as Ralph entered a box of a place, about eight by ten, with
a desk, a chair, stool, and a few lap robes in a corner as the
furnishings thereof.

Emmons was a squat, thick set personage, with most of his face hidden
behind a tremendous beard. He cast a careless glance at the boy, then
shutting a ledger said:

"Let's go to supper."

He seized an old palmetto hat, and leaving the stables, dived down a
side street, and into a cheap restaurant near by.

Ralph followed. They seated themselves at one of a row of pine tables,
covered with oilcloth, and well sprinkled with crumbs and flies.

"Better take beef stew," remarked Emmons, seizing some bread and eating
ravenously. "Get more if you're hungry."