"Shut that door," cried Tom, angrily, without looking around.
"Whoever you are, do you know that we have a sick man here"
"Well, the men chased me out of one shack, and wouldn't let me in the other, and I don't want to go near the cook," complained a whining young voice.
It was Alf Drew who uttered the words.
"Shut the door," Tom repeated.
"May I stay here?" asked Alf, after obeying.
"I suppose so, though we have about enough trouble here already.
Why did the men chase you out of their shack?"
"They said they couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes," Drew replied.
"I don't wonder at that," muttered Tom.
"They were all smoking. I don't see why I couldn't smoke, too,"
Alf whined.
"That's just the point," Tom returned. "The men were smoking. Now, as I've told you before, the use of cigarettes isn't smoking at all. You annoyed men who were minding their own business."