As she spoke, she held out a large masculine
hand, which Carl took, as seemed to be expected.
"Thank you," said Carl.
"What am I to call you?" asked Hannah.
"Carl Crawford."
"That's a strange name."
"It is not common, I believe."
"You two will get acquainted by and by,"
said Mr. Jennings. "The most interesting
question at present is, when will dinner be ready?"
"In ten minutes," answered Hannah, promptly.
"Carl and I are both famished. We have
had considerable exercise," here he nodded at
Carl with a comical look, and Carl understood that
he referred in part to his contest with the tramp.
Hannah disappeared into the kitchen, and
Mr. Jennings said: "Come upstairs, Carl.
I will show you your room."
Up an old-fashioned stairway Carl followed
his host, and the latter opened the door of a
side room on the first landing. It was not
large, but was neat and comfortable. There
was a cottage bedstead, a washstand, a small
bureau and a couple of chairs.
"I hope you will come to feel at home here,"
said Mr. Jennings, kindly.
"Thank you, sir. I am sure I shall," Carl
responded, gratefully.
"There are some nails to hang your clothing
on," went on Mr. Jennings, and then he stopped
short, for it was clear that Carl's small gripsack
could not contain an extra suit, and he
felt delicate at calling up in the boy's mind
the thought of his poverty.
"Thank you, sir," said Carl. "I left my
trunk at the house of a friend, and if you
should succeed in finding me a place, I will
send for it.
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