"I hadn't thought of that angle-say, that's bad." Tex studied the ceiling as if wondering when it would give way. "Look, Oz, I don't, think we're under the lake, or the walls of this dungeon would be damp."
"Huh uh, they're good at this sort of thing."
"Well-okay, so they've got us. I'm not beefing, Oz-your intentions were good-but it sure looks like we should 'a' taken our chances in the jungle."
"For Pete's sake, Text-haven't I got enough to worry about without you second-guessing me? If you're not beefing, then stop beefing."
There was a short silence, then Tex said, "Excuse me, Oscar. My big mouth."
"Sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper. My arm hurts."
"Oh. How's it doing? Didn't I set it right?"
"I think you did a good job on it, but it aches. And it's beginning to itch, under the wrappings-makes me edgy. What are you doing, Matt?"
After checking on Thurlow's condition-unchanged-Matt : had gone to the door and was investigating the closure. The curtain he found to be a thick, firm fabric of some ; sort, fastened around the edges. He was trying his knife on it when Oscar spoke to him.
"Nothing," he answered. "This stuff won't cut."