"Just from the pain."
"We all ate the same, and we didn't drink out of that tin can, so it can't be poison, and it doesn't sound like just indigestion," mused Fitz to us. "Maybe we ought to give him an emetic. Shall we, Tom?"
"I don't think I need any emetic. There's nothing there," groaned the major. "Maybe I've caught cold. I guess the cramps will quit. Wish I had a hot-water bag or a hot brick."
"We'll heat water and lay a hot compress on. That will help," spoke Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "Ought to have thought of it before."
"Wait a minute, boys," bade Fitz. "Lie still as long as you can, Tom, while I feel you."
He unbuttoned the major's shirt (the major had taken off his belt and loosened his waist-band, already) and began to explore about with his fingers.
"The ache's up here," explained the major. "Up in the middle of my stomach."
"But is it sore anywhere else?" asked Fitz, pressing about. "Say ouch."
The major said ouch.
"Sore right under there?" queried Fitz.