"It's all right, Emily," she said. "We're the only passengers aboard the
derelict. Now let's see if we can't be more comf'table. You set down on
that sofa and rest. I've got an idea in my head."
The idea evidently involved an examination of the stove, for she opened
its rusty door and peered inside. Then, without waiting to answer her
companion's questions, she hurried out into the kitchen, returning with
an armful of shavings and a few sticks of split pine.
"I noticed that woodbox in the kitchen when I fust come in," she said.
"And 'twa'n't quite empty neither, though that's more or less of a
miracle. Matches? Oh, yes, indeed! I never travel without 'em. I've been
so used to lookin' out for myself and other folks that I'm a reg'lar man
in some ways. There! now let's see if the draft is rusted up as much as
the stove."
It was not, apparently, for, with the dampers wide open, the fire
crackled and snapped. Also it smoked a little.
"'Twill get over that pretty soon," prophesied Mrs. Barnes. "I can stand
'most any amount of smoke so long's there's heat with it. Now, Emily,
we'll haul that sofa up alongside and you lay down on it and get rested
and warm. I'd say get dry, too, but 'twould take a reg'lar blast furnace
to dry a couple of water rats like you and me this night. Perhaps we
can dry the upper layer, though; that'll be some help. Now, mind me! Lay
right down on that sofa."
Emily protested. She was no wetter and no more tired than her cousin,
she said.
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