Certainly the captain was plain-spoken, and Obed Swikes did not like his speech; but he was too wet and cold to argue the question, and he walked towards the station. Wade soon found himself alone in the boat. He had a dollar in his pocket, which was more money than he had ever possessed before: it seemed like a vast sum to him. But he was very hungry, and he soon followed the party to the village. It was but a small place, consisting of not more than a dozen houses. He found that there was no tavern, store, or eating-house, in the place: all these were at the village two miles distant. “Isn’t there any place where I can get something to eat?” asked Wade of the woman who had given him the information. “None nearer than the West Village,” she replied. “I have had nothing but a few crusts to eat since yesterday; and I have to sail a boat up to Midhampton, and I can’t do it without something to eat,” added Wade, in a mournful tone. “I will give you something to eat,” said the woman kindly. “I am willing to feed the hungry, but I am afraid of tramps.” “I’m not a tramp yet, marm: I don’t know what I may be. I am willing to pay for what I eat, for I have some money.” The woman took no notice of this remark, but led the way into the kitchen of her house, which was as neat as wax, and very different in this respect from that of Mrs. Swikes. She put a great slice of ham into a pan, and put it on the fire; and in a moment it was hissing and sizzling, and sending forth a savory odor which tickled the senses of the hungry boy. When it was nearly done she put some cold potatoes into the pan, and fried them with the ham. She had already set the table; and, when the ham was cooked, she asked him to take his seat. She had coffee, and bread and butter, besides the other viands; and Wade could not remember when he had had such a nice breakfast. He astonished the lady by the magnitude of his appetite. He praised the food without stint; and the hostess was complimented by the quantity he ate. When the meal was finished, the good lady would not take a cent of his dollar; and he thanked her with all his might. CHAPTER XII. WADE BROOKS MAKES A TRADE. Wade Brooks felt like a new boy. The breakfast was a meal to be remembered; for there was nothing like it in the past, and the future at the house of Obed Swikes was equally blank in prospect. His meals there were hardly better than the pigs had, and were often short at that.