“Busted!” replied Jacob, grimly.
Tom turned pale.
“I ain’t feeling none too well,” he murmured, placing a band on his lower deck. “Do you think a cove ’ud bust like—like a cow?”
“I dunno,” replied the farmer. “If ’e’d et too much he might.”
“Ob, Lord!” groaned Tom.
“How do you feel?” asked Mrs. Cayley.
“I got a pain,” he said, “’ere, an’ ’ere—all over me stummick.”
“’E’s over-et ’imself, Maria,” remarked Cayley. “’E’d better go to bed.”
“I’ll put him in the spare room,” said Maria, regarding Tom with a motherly eye.
“Yes,” replied Jacob, “an’ I’ll lock the door an’ padlock the winder on the outside till we find out whether his yarn is true or not.”