"
"Don't say so!"
Through the door to the kitchen Tom could see a kettle of water steaming on
the stove. "I'd like to wash some of this soot off," he said.
The woman led him to the kitchen and gave him a tin basin. "When the door
was closed behind her, he stripped off the cape and coat, and fell to
scrubbing with the hot water and soap. Then he dried himself and pulled on
the shirt. It was several sizes too small for him, but it was better than
nothing at all. He could hear the two old people and the boy discussing the
fire. Probably, he thought, they would talk of little else until they heard
the real story. He thanked his stars that he had struck this one quiet spot
in the chaos of war to prepare himself for the adventures of the next few
days. It was providential. Now he was ready to meet the world.
"I'd like to buy something to eat," he said as he stepped from the kitchen.
"We ain't got much," answered the woman.
"I'll pay you well," he replied. "I'll have to carry it with me. It's
getting dark and I must he getting on to Chattanooga."
"Will some ham an' some bread do?"
"Splendidly."
She went into the kitchen.
"How did you say that bridge caught on fire?" asked the old man.
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