I went into the house. In the
buttery I found a piece of cold b'iled pork, about as big as one of my
fists--it was a pretty large piece!--and four cold taters. I eat the
pork and taters all up, and felt better. That's what I wanted to see you
for."

"Why did you quit work?"

"Mis' Barkspear saw me coming out of the house, and when she missed the
pork and taters, she knowed I did it. She told the old man I'd eat up
the dinner for that day. Barkspear licked me, and I quit. I hain't had
nothin' to eat since," said he, bursting into tears.

I pushed the raft back to the landing-place again.

"You won't tell on me, Buck--will you?" pleaded he.

"No. I'm going to get you something to eat."

He was willing.

CHAPTER X.

WHAT SIM GWYNN WANTED TO SEE ME FOR.

Sim Gwynn was hungry, and that was the greatest misfortune which could
possibly happen to him. He was growing rapidly, and consumed a vast
amount of food. I pitied him, as I did any one who was kept on short
allowance, and I hastened to the house as quickly as I could, in order
to relieve what was positive suffering on his part. I intended to obtain
the food at home if possible; if not, to purchase it at the store.

Captain Fishley had probably harnessed the horse himself, for he and the
squire had gone away. I went into the house. No one was there but Flora.
Mrs. Fishley had gone, with her husband, to sun herself in the smiles of
the senator. She never liked to be left at home when there was anything
going on. In the buttery I found plenty of cooked provisions; for,
whatever else may be said of the Fishleys, they always had enough to
eat, and that which was good enough. "Short provender" had never been
one of my grievances, and I pitied poor Sim all the more on this
account.

Mrs. Fishley had evidently given the distinguished visitor credit for a
larger appetite than he possessed after his debauch the night before,
and there was at least a pound of cold fried ham left. I took a paper
bag, and put into it half the meat and as much cold corned beef as would
have fed me for two days, with a plentiful supply of biscuits, crackers,
and brown bread. I filled the bag full, determined that Sim should have
plenty to eat for once in his life. Thus laden with enough to fill the
stomach that had "nothing in it," I returned to the swamp.

I need not say that the hungry runaway was glad to see me. I pushed off
the raft, and poled it over to the fallen tree, where