"Who is cook, then?"
"There isn't any," answered Winn; "and for that reason there isn't any
breakfast, nor likely to be any, for I'll starve before I try my hand
at it again."
"There seems to be plenty of breakfast, such as it is," said the
stranger, gravely, indicating by a glance the many pans of spoiled
mush. Then seeing that the boy was really in distress, and not in a
joking humor, he added, "But let me help you set things to rights, and
then I'll see if I can't show you how to get up some sort of a
breakfast. I'm not a regular cook, as perhaps you may guess; but then,
again, I am one, in a way, as all we river-traders have to be."
"Are you a river-trader?" asked Winn.
"Yes; and there are three of us. But I'll tell you all about it, and
you shall tell me your story after we've had breakfast."
To Winn, the expeditious manner in which his recent culinary disasters
were repaired and a simple but well-cooked breakfast was made ready by
this stranger was a source of undisguised admiration. Even coffee,
clear and strong, was made in a tin can. One edge of the can was bent
into the form of a rude spout; then it was filled two-thirds with
water, and set on the stove. When the water came to a boil, half a
cupful of ground coffee, tied loosely in a bit of clean muslin, was
dropped into it, and allowed to boil for three minutes.
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