Help yourself. I would cook it for you only
I would rather get things going for your friends," said Phipps
cordially.
Tad protested that he could help himself and urged the miner to make
all haste possible. After the latter had left him, the lad lost no
time in starting the fire and in a few moments had bacon sizzling in
the spider and the coffee pot steaming. He found some cold potatoes
which he fried in the grease of the bacon.
"Don't that smell good!" exclaimed Tad, as the odor of the cooking
drifted up to his nostrils. "If it tastes half as good as it smells
I'll have the meal of my life."
He was not disappointed. Tad ate and ate, yet he was wise enough to
restrain himself and chew his food well, knowing full well that he
would have to submit himself to a still further test of endurance
before he could call his work done.
The lad was still eating when Tom Phipps returned.
"What luck?" cried Tad anxiously.
"It's all right. I've rounded up enough ponies for the party. I have
called six of the miners from work. They are men who know the
mountains. The cook in the chuck house is preparing food for you to
take back with you--that is if you intend to go--"
"Of course I do," spoke up Tad quickly.
"I think it will be best for the whole party to return with you to the
place where your friends are camped.
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