"Dry of words, for
once?"
"I'm thinking," responded young Benson, absently.
"Well, it's a sure thing that thinking does less harm than talking,"
nodded Hal.
"But when a fellow's silent he can't spit out all that's boiling inside
of him," snorted Eph Somers.
"I'm getting ready to talk presently," smiled Captain Jack.
"If it's anything strong, say it now," begged Eph.
The three boys were sitting about the cabin table. Eph sat with his
elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, his eyes glaring defiantly
at the wall opposite. Hal, rather listless, sat low in his chair, his
feet well under the table, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. Jack
sat leaning slightly forward, his left hand tapping lightly against the
polished surface of the table.
"Tell you what I'm going to do," suddenly exploded Eph. "I'm going to
Jake Farnum and ask him, straight, whether that snob of a duffer is going
to be put in here over us, with leave to kick us out when he chooses."
"Don't you do it," advised Hal, with a shake of his head.
"Why not?"
"Our employer is absorbed, and, troubled as much as he wants to be, now,"
rejoined Hastings. "When there's anything he wants us to know, and he
can find time, he'll tell us."
"Huh!" half assented Eph.
"Don't be forward about it," continued Hal. "Just play the waiting game
and rely upon Mr. Farnum being as fair and square as he has any chance
to be.
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