The free and easy manner in which his nephew conducted himself was
peculiarly annoying and exasperating to the old man, but as often as he
was impelled to speak, the sight of his nephew's resolute face and
vigorous frame, which he found it difficult to connect with his
recollections of young Ben, terrified him into silence, and he contented
himself with following his nephew around uneasily with looks of
suspicion.

When the dinner was prepared both sat down to partake of it, but Ben
quietly, and, as a matter of course, assumed the place of host and
carved the fowl. Notwithstanding the shock which his economical notions
had received, the farmer ate with appetite the best meal of which he had
partaken for a long time. Ben had not vaunted too highly his skill as a
cook. Wherever he had acquired it, he evidently understood the
preparation of such a dinner as now lay before them.

"Now, Uncle Paul, if we only had a mug of cider to wash down the
dinner. Haven't you got some somewhere?"

"Not a drop."

"Don't you think I might find some stored away in the cellar, for
instance?" asked Ben, fixing his glance upon his uncle's face.

"No, no; didn't I tell you I hadn't got any?" returned Paul Nichols,
with petulance and alarm.

"I mean to see what else you have in the cellar," said Ben, to himself,
"before I leave this place. There's a reason for that pale face of
yours." But he only said aloud, "Well, if you haven't got any we must do