“My eyes, what pies!” he chuckled, “but I’m not ready for dessert as yet. There’s no use in trying to hurry me on to the last course. I’ll return to you, so don’t feel slighted,” as he crept stealthily on, addressing the pastry.
Other baskets yielded generously of sandwiches, salads, pickles, fruits—everything to his exact liking and preference, and no lively conscience warned Billy that he was doing anything wrong in satisfying his appetite in this manner.
If one was not expected to eat, then why was he permitted to get hungry? That was the argument he put forth. And if one was hungry, why shouldn’t he eat—and especially when there were so many and such good things in front of one?
“I believe I’ll lay low until they begin to serve, for that big barrel at the back of the tent means just one thing—ice-cream, and after it is opened, it may be that I can manage to get a portion. At least it is worth an effort. It is the next best thing to a good, cool drink, and I see no likelihood of quenching my thirst. All they seem to have is coffee, and I never yet have touched the vile stuff. It smells good enough, but I value my nerves far too much to touch it.”
By this time the women were bustling about, spreading snowy linen over the rough tables, and placing the dishes and silver. It required some maneuvering for Billy to edge his way unnoticed from table to table, but he gradually approached the back of the tent and took up his station under the last table, crouched into the darkest corner, near the side of the tent.
He had not long to wait until the clinking of glasses and the clatter of knives and forks told that patrons had begun to come, and the swish of skirts told him that waitresses were busily serving meals.
“My waiting time is nearly over,” he decided, and poked his head under the tent just enough to get a glimpse of the ice-cream freezer. “Now the very moment that that burly fellow leaves—as he surely will after the first rush is over—I’ll make the raid.”
He hardly winked, so anxious was he to remain undiscovered, for this was the crucial test. Once or twice he was forced to draw back wholly within the tent, fearing that the man dishing out the cream would face about and find the marauding Billy so near. But Billy had an unlimited amount of patience about some things, and he was in the mood to exert it for the promised treat.
“There!” sighed the man at last, mopping his brow, “that is the hardest work I’ve done for many a day. I think I need a strong cup of coffee to brace me up for the next round,” and he hurried off before an impatient waitress should demand his further services.