It was a good deal to expect a boy to cook two suppers on the same evening; but Jerry in the warmth of his heart seemed only too glad to be of assistance to a poor man in trouble. Luther Snow seemed to be a rather quiet sort of man. He seldom spoke unless he was addressed; and it was only through persistent questioning that they finally learned something of his story. He declared that he had no relatives in the world save the married daughter, now in New Orleans; and that as she expected to make her home at the other side of the world, he had determined to sell all he had, and spend some little time with her before she sailed. “And now it looks as if I’d never be able to reach there in time,” he mournfully remarked, in conclusion; “because I haven’t a single dollar in the world; and even if I wrote to her, she’s not able to send me the money. So I’ll just have to go back to my trade, and earn enough day by day; if I can find work.” “What might be your trade?” asked Frank, as though just barely interested. “Why, I’m a carpenter, you see,” the old man replied, quickly enough; but while of course Frank did not say a word as though he doubted the truth of this assertion, he secretly made up his mind that at least the other could not have been doing much work of recent years; for he noticed that his hands were entirely free from signs of manual labor, since they appeared to be as soft as those of a lady, though the nails were ill enough kept. Frank kept much of this to himself. He studied the old man, however, and wondered if after all he could be as hungry as he said; for he certainly did have a very poor appetite for a half-starved person, since he made way with only a small portion of the food Jerry got together. They had several extra blankets aboard, the property of Uncle Felix. Two of these Frank fetched ashore, and laid with his own hands, making as comfortable a bed as anybody might want. “Nothing will come around, as long as the fire burns; and here’s plenty of wood to keep it going, if you happen to wake up any time in the night. Besides, we keep watch aboard the boat, and any uninvited guest is apt to be met with a shot. I hope you don’t walk in your sleep, Mr. Snow?” Frank said this for a purpose. The old man started, and looked at him queerly; after which he hastened to say: “I never knew of myself doing such a thing in my life. But please don’t bother about me more than you can help. You see, I’m used to being alone; and I’ve done a fair amount of camping in my day, too.” Frank had already guessed that from certain little signs. For instance, the other had arranged his blankets so that the night wind would strike his feet rather than his head; and also that the fire would be some little distance from his lower extremities; for an experienced camper-out, especially when it is cold, will make sure to keep his feet warm, first of all. And so, finally, they left him there, rolled up snugly in his blankets.