Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth was loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a "starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit.
But Sid slept on unconscious.
Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe. No result from Sid.
Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He too-k a rest and then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.
Sid snored on.
Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said:
"Tom! Say, Tom! "[No response.] "Here Tom! Tom! What is the matter, Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously.
Tom moaned out:
"O don't, Sid. Don't joggle me."
"Why what's the matter Tom? I must call auntie."
"No—nevermind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody."
"But I must! Don't groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this way?"
"Hours. Ouch! O don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me."
"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? O, Tom, don't! It makes my flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?"
"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done to me. When I'm gone—"
