"Of course," said Mr. Brown, "you may be right in what you say about having the right to this boy's work because you paid for it. As for his being lazy, I don't agree with you there. He has certainly been a help to us about the camp."
"Oh, yes, where there's any fun in it Tom's right there! I s'pose he's a good fisherman?"
"I never saw a better one," said Mr. Brown earnestly, while Bunny Brown and Sue sat together on a big stump and wondered what it was all about.
"Yes, Tom'd rather fish than eat," said Mr. Bixby slowly, as he crossed one ragged-trousered leg over the other.
"Who wouldn't with what I got to eat at your cabin?" burst out Tom who had been standing back near the cook tent. "All I got was potatoes, and once in a while bacon; I got so hungry I just had to go out and fish."
"Well, we won't go into any argument about it," said Mr. Bixby. "I'm entitled to work from you and I'm goin' to have you. That's all there is about it."
"I'll never go back to you to be stung with them needles!" cried Tom.
At this Mr. Brown asked a question.
"What are these 'needles' Tom speaks of?" he asked. "I think I have a right to know, as he is in my charge now, and if I let him go to you, and he is hurt, I should feel I was to blame. I want to know about this needle business."
"There wasn't anything to it. He just imagined it. I used to grab hold of his arm, to shake him awake mornings, and I'd happen to hit his funny bone in his elbow. You know how it is when you hit your elbow in a certain place—it makes it feel as though pins and needles were sticking in you."