“Because thar ain’t any.”
“Thar ain’t any breakfast, you mean?”
“Jest what I say. He ain’t goin’ to cook breakfast, ’cause thar ain’t any to cook, an’ thar ain’t no more to say.”
Henry and Paul, awakening at the sound of the voices, sat up and caught the last words.
“Do you mean to tell us, Tom,” exclaimed Paul, “that we have nothing to eat?”
“Shorely,” said Silent Tom triumphantly. “Look! See!”
All of them examined their packs quickly, but they had eaten the last scrap of food the day before. Silent Tom’s mouth again stretched across his face with triumph and his eyes crinkled up.
“Right, ain’t it?” he asked exultantly.
“Look here you, Tom Ross,” exclaimed Shif’less Sol, indignantly, “you’d rather be right an’ starve to death than be wrong an’ live!”
“Right, ain’t I?”