Frank had satisfied himself that there was no chance of making a break to escape without throwing his life away, and so he seemed to return to the hut with perfect content. Indeed, his nonchalance and apparent lack of fretfulness and dissatisfaction over his misfortune was most amazing to the rough men.
Merry ate supper heartily.
There was a clay fireplace in the hut, and, the night coming on cool, a fire was built there. Merry lolled before the fire on the hard-packed earth, which served as a floor to the hut. Bill came in, sat down on the ground, and rolled a cigarette.
"Well," he finally said, "how do you find yourself to-night?"
"Oh, comfortable," carelessly answered Frank.
"Smoke?"
"Never do."
"Drink?"
"Out of my line."