the appetizing odor of ham and eggs wafted itself over the camp.
Through it all Tom never turned his head, nor did his companions speak to him. He must have heard what was going on, but he never acknowledged it. With merry whistles his chums drove away the suggestion of gloom.
"Grub's ready!" came the announcement of Frank, as he walked over toward Tom. "Wilt your most gracious majesty deign to partake of our humble fare?" and he dropped on one knee, and offered to Tom, on a plate, a slice of bread.
For a moment the tall pitcher held out against the envoy, and then a faint smile broke over his face.
"If you fellows are done finding fault," he said, "I'll come in and help. But I don't like to do all the work, and then have it rubbed in the way you chaps did."
"That's right, we did lay it on a bit thick," admitted Frank, contritely.
"And I got a bit hot under the collar," spoke Tom, confessing in his turn.
"Come on and eat," urged Frank. "The stuff is getting cold. It isn't such bad coffee after all."
"I paid enough for it," retorted Tom.
And thus the little cloud was blown away. Soon all were eating merrily. The meal being finished,
