"A reckless waste of precious minutes!" Edgar exclaimed ironically. "If one could only get over these troublesome bodily needs, you could add hours of work to every week and make Sylvia Marston rich. By the way, Jake's cooking is getting awful."
He put up his horse and busied himself with several tasks before he went in to breakfast. When it was finished, and the others went out, he detained George.
"What did you think of that meal?" he asked.
"Well," said George, "it might have been better."
Edgar laughed scornfully.
"It would take some time to tell you my opinion, but I may as well point out that you're paying a big bill for stores to Taunton, though we never get anything fit to eat. Helen and I were talking over your account, and she wondered what we did with the things, besides giving me an idea. It's this—why don't you tell Grierson to bring out his wife?"
"I never thought of it. She might not come; and she may not cook much better than Jake."
"She certainly couldn't cook worse! I expect she would save her wages, and she would set a hired man free. Jake can drive a team."
"It's a good idea," George agreed. "Send Grierson in."
The man came a few minutes later.