Darius had carted off his own grub and what there was on hand was mine, left over from the gunnin' season--a hunk of salt pork in the pickle tub, some corn meal in a tin pail, some musty white flour in another pail, a little coffee, a little sugar and salt, and a can of condensed milk.

I took these things out of the locker they was in, looked 'em over, put 'em back again and sprung the padlock.

Then I put the key into my pocket and went back to my chair to do some more thinkin'.
"Next mornin' I was up early and when the banker turned out I was fryin' a couple of slices of the pork and had some coffee b'ilin'.

Likewise there was a pan of johnnycake in the oven.

The wind had gone down consider'ble, but 'twas foggy and thick again, which was a pleasin' state of things for yours truly.
"Williams smelt the cookin' almost afore he got his eyes open.
"'Hurry up with that breakfast,' he says to me.