Jack stared. "Another? Who? Oh, the cook! He ain't one of us. He ain't got nothing but the shirt on his back!"
Bela shrugged. "You say you want mak' all fair. Let me hear what he got say."
Here was an unexpected turn to the situation. They glowered at her with increasing suspicion and anger. Was it possible there was a dark horse in the race?
"If you want him, I guess you can say so right out, can't you?" growled Jack.
Bela tossed her head. "I not want him," she said quickly. "I jus' want hear what he got say."
It was difficult for them to think of the despised grub-rider in the light of a rival, so they decided it was just a freak of coquettishness in Bela.
"All right," said Jack. "Anything to oblige." Turning, he opened the door and shouted for Sam.
Sam presently appeared, tousled and flushed with sleep, his blue eyes scornfully resentful.
"What do you want now?" he demanded. "You made me lose sleep last night."
"Well," said Jack, "all that is over. We're askin' Bela here to choose between us and settle the thing for good. We've all said our say, but she allowed she wanted to hear what the cook had to offer before she closed. Speak up."