“Nothing can make Jimmy forget that,” laughed Bob. “Nero fiddled when Rome was burning. Jimmy would eat if the Meteor were sinking.”
“He’d rather die full than live empty,” put in Herb.
“And Jimmy’s been nibbling at doughnuts all the afternoon, at that,” Joe said accusingly.
“I’ve had to keep up my strength,” was Jimmy’s defense of himself. “And, anyway, I’ve given Hector a good share of them. Haven’t I, Hector?”
The dog gave a series of barks that Jimmy interpreted as being in the affirmative.
“He isn’t to be relied on,” declared Herb. “He’d back you up in anything.”
“Anyway,” Jimmy hinted darkly, “I haven’t eaten all the doughnuts that I brought on deck. Somebody swiped two of them from my pocket. I’m not mentioning any names, but you fellows and Ensign Porter are the only ones that have been near me, and I’m dead sure that Mr. Porter didn’t do it.”
“That seems to put it up to us,” observed Joe. “Jimmy, it goes to my heart to have you think so poorly of those you know so well.”
“That’s just it,” said Jimmy. “I know them too well.”
“If any of us has done it,” said Herb—“mind, I say if any of us has done it—the only motive was to prevent your having an attack of acute indigestion. We think a lot of you, Jimmy.”