"Well, you must 'a' been hungry," said the woman. "A man that'll eat cold vittles, especially cold potato, ain't shammin'." "I wish I had money to offer you----" "Oh, never mind that; you're welcome. Can I do anything more for you?" "I feel sick, and sometimes, though I am a temperance man, I take whisky for my health, if you had just a sup----" "Well, we haven't any, and if we had I wouldn't give you any." "You misjudge me, madam. You must not think I am a drinker." "It's no matter what I think. You can't get any whisky here." At Daneboro Tom fared better. He changed his gold piece, drank a pint of whisky, and the next day retraced his steps to old Peter's cabin. He felt satisfied that somewhere near the cabin there was treasure concealed. CHAPTER V BURNS RETURNS When Peter Brant was laid away under a tree not far from the cabin where he had ended his days Ernest felt that he was at liberty to begin the new life that lay before him. Despite the natural sadness which he felt at parting with his old friend, he looked forward not without pleasant anticipations to the future and what it might have in store for him. Oak Forks had few attractions for him. He had a literary taste, but could not get books. Peter Brant had about a dozen volumes, none of which he had read himself, but Ernest had read them over and over again. None of the neighbors owned any books. Occasionally a newspaper found its way into the settlement, and this, when it came into Ernest's hands, was read, advertisements and all. How, then, was his time passed? Partly in hunting, partly in fishing--for there was a small river two miles away--but one could not fish or hunt all the time. He had often felt a vague yearning to go to Chicago or New York, or anywhere where there would be a broader field and large opportunities, and he had broached the subject to Peter. "I can't afford to go, Ernest," the old man would reply. "I must live on the little I have, for I am too old to work." "But I am young. I can work," the boy would answer. "A boy like you couldn't earn much. Wait till I am dead, and then you can go where you like." This would always close the discussion, for Ernest did not like to consider such a possibility. Peter represented his world, for he had no one to cling to except the man whom he supposed to be his uncle. Now, however, the time had come when he could go forth and enter upon a career. Accordingly he declined Joe Marks' offer to take him into the store. He understood very well that it was only meant in kindness, and that he was not really needed. "You don't need me, Joe," he said. "You are very kind, but there must be real work for me somewhere." "Well, my lad, I won't stand in your way, but I've known you a long time, and I shall hate to lose sight of you." "I'll came back some day, Joe--that is if I am prosperous and can."