“Eatin’,” says Mark.
We heard somebody stirring around, and then Jiggins crawled out.
“What you got?” he asked. “Um. Lemme see. Crackers, eh? Gimme some. Gimme a handful. What you mean, eating without offering me any? Always willing to eat. Always.”
We passed the box to him, and he took half a dozen. You couldn’t get away from it, he was a lot like Mark Tidd. Fat, always hungry, and had a lot of brains. I wondered if Mark would be like him when he grew up, but I thought not. I don’t know why, but there was something different about Mark. It was hard to figure out just what it was, but I guess it was a combination of things. Mark was funnier and liked funny things more. And he was surer of himself. When Mark started to do a thing he never had the least bit of doubt he’d come out all right. Jiggins, it seemed to me, was a little worried at times.
“Got enough?” Collins called. “’Cause I want to get to sleep.”
“That’s why he’s thin,” says Jiggins to Mark. “No interest in food. Always sticking up his nose at eating. Thin. Skinny. Don’t weigh any more’n a good-sized feather. It’s his stomach. Worries about it. Didn’t eat between meals. Silly, eh? We don’t think that way, eh, son?”
“No,” says Mark, with a grin.
It was peculiar how good-natured everybody was. Of course, Jiggins and Collins had a right to be because they’d come out ahead; but Mark and I didn’t hold it up against them. Funny, isn’t it? We chatted as pleasant as if we were close friends instead of genuine enemies and opponents-like. Most folks would have growled and sulked and scowled at each other, but not one of us did. If I’ve got to have enemies that’s the way I’d like to have them.
We turned in pretty quick, and I didn’t know another thing till Collins woke me up in the morning by pouring a cup of water on me. He was laughing like he thought it was funny. So were Jiggins and Mark. Everybody seems to see how comical a thing like that is except the fellow the water falls on.