who knew his ground.

"Can I help?" queried Carley.

"Not today. I do not want you to spring any domestic science on me now."
Carley was not averse to withholding her ignorance. She watched Glenn with
surpassing curiosity and interest. First he threw a quantity of wood upon
the smoldering fire.

"I have ham and mutton of my own raising," announced Glenn, with
importance. "Which would you prefer?"

"Of your own raising. What do you mean?" queried Carley.

"My dear, you've been so steeped in the fog of the crowd that you are blind
to the homely and necessary things of living. I mean I have here meat of
both sheep and hog that I raised myself. That is to say, mutton and ham.
Which do you like?"

"Ham!" cried Carley, incredulously.

Without more ado Glenn settled to brisk action, every move of which Carley
watched with keen eyes. The usurping of a woman's province by a man was
always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne--what more would it be? He
evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was quick, decisive. One
after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, utensils on the table.
Then he kicked at the roaring fire, settling some of the sticks. He strode
outside to return with a bucket of water, a basin, towel, and soap. Then he
took down two queer little iron pots with heavy lids. To each pot was
attached a wire handle. He removed the lids, then set both the pots right