He might have begun in fun, but he had
finished otherwise. She felt that she really did not know this man. Had he
arraigned her in judgment? A flush, seemingly hot and cold, passed over
her. Then it relieved her to see that he had returned to his task.
He mixed the shortening with the flour, and, adding water, he began a
thorough kneading. When the consistency of the mixture appeared to satisfy
him he took a handful of it, rolled it into a ball, patted and flattened it
into a biscuit, and dropped it into the oven he had set aside on the hot
coals. Swiftly he shaped eight or ten other biscuits and dropped them as
the first. Then he put the heavy iron lid on the pot, and with a rude
shovel, improvised from a flattened tin can, he shoveled red coals out of
the fire, and covered the lid with them. His next move was to pare and
slice potatoes, placing these aside in a pan. A small black coffee-pot half
full of water, was set on a glowing part of the fire. Then he brought into
use a huge, heavy knife, a murderous-looking implement it appeared to
Carley, with which he cut slices of ham. These he dropped into the second
pot, which he left uncovered. Next he removed the flour sack and other
inpedimenta from the table, and proceeded to set places for two--blue-enamel
plate and cup, with plain, substantial-looking knives, forks, and spoons.
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