"No, I guess there's enough. That soup smells good. What's that there? Roast beef? Fine!" And Tom fell diligently to work.
Steve watched in silence a moment. Then,
"I say, Tom," he said.
"Huh?" asked the other, his mouth full.
"You know I—I'm much obliged."
Tom nodded carelessly. "All right," he said in a gruff voice. "It wasn't anything. Norton and Williams and those others did it."
"You got there first," said Steve. "I guess if you hadn't I—I wouldn't have waited for the rest. It was mighty plucky, and—and I——"
"Oh, cut it," growled Tom. "It wasn't anything, you ass. What the dickens did you go away out there for anyway?" Tom became indignant. "Haven't you got any sense?"
"Not much," laughed Steve. Then, soberly, "It's the first time I ever had cramps, and I don't ever want them again! I thought I was a goner there for a while, Tom. They caught me right across the small of my back and I couldn't any more move my legs than I could fly. All I could do was shout and wiggle my arms a bit, and the pain was just as though something—say a swordfish—was cutting me in two!" Steve shook his head soberly. "It—it was fierce, Tom!"
"Serves you right! You had no business swimming way out there in water like that and scaring us all to pieces!" Tom was very severe as to language, but the effect was somewhat marred by the fact that he had filled his mouth with food. Nevertheless, Steve took the rebuke quite meekly. All he said was: