"Then Ted and me'll be rustlin' a bite."
Silent, but seething inwardly, Al joined Ted in the kitchen. Knowing
something was amiss, but not what he could do about it, Tammie lay down
woefully on his bearskin rug. Wanting to speak, but not knowing what to
say, Ted looked dully at his father's face. It was unreadable.
Finally Al said, "We'll all feel better when we've had a bite to eat,
and I for one am hungry."
He lighted a burner and stooped to take a kettle from beneath the sink.
Ted stared his astonishment. Al had the huge kettle, the one they used
when there were ten or more hunters staying with them. Half-filling it
with water, he put it over the burner to heat and took an unopened peck
of potatoes from their storage place. Industriously he began to peel
them.