from it hung an old iron pot. The andirons were long, narrow
slabs of granite, set on edge, upon which were piled logs of pine wood,
burning merrily--not because it was a cold night, but because of its
cheerfulness.

The hearth at once became the center of attraction. It was the mysterious
fairy that bound all hearts together and welded all types of personality
into a sympathetic friendship that gathered round it. It was the stern
and fiery monarch, ordering all assembled to be quiet that it might sing
and moan and whisper the messages that it had gathered from the winter
storms or from the falling leaves.

At one side of the old fireplace, leaning back in his rickety old
arm-chair, sat Ben, Old Ben the innkeeper, his long-stemmed cob pipe
held quietly in one hand, while the other rested on the head of a huge
Russian hound that lay on the floor in front of the fire. Ben's hair was
long and gray, and on his nose rested a pair of large, old--fashioned,
silver--rimmed spectacles. His head was partly bald, and his small, gray
eyes were set well back under shaggy eyebrows. His face was covered with
a generous growth of dirty-gray whiskers, stained darkly about the mouth
from his pipe. He was a typical old mountain prospector who had seen
better days.

As the boys entered Old Ben rose, stretched his large, gaunt frame, and
cried, "Howdy, fellers, must o' started day afore yestedy, didn't ye?
Took ye tarnal long to git here, anyhow. Supper's ben ready these two
hours. Me'n the critter 'n Tad is most starved a waitin'. Hello, Mr.
Allen, where'd ye git this lively bunch o' fellers, anyhow? D' they all
b'long to ye? Come along, Tad, er these dratted youngsters 'll eat all
yer grub fer ye." This as the fellows seated themselves about the table.

Tad, by the aid of a crutch, hobbled from the lean-to kitchen and
took his seat at the table nearest the fire. Old Ben served the
meal--beefsteak, baked potatoes, hot corn muffins, and gravy, apple
sauce, pickles, and coffee that fairly filled the room with its
fragrance.

"Drat me for a young squirrel if you fellers ain't the hungriest bunch o'
yearlin's I ever set eyes on," muttered Ben as he hurried back and forth
from table to kitchen supplying the urgent demand.

After the last drop of coffee had disappeared, the meeting was called to
order around the table and the business of the evening was gotten under
way. Willis, for the first time, found it difficult to pay attention to
w