“There you are!” he said triumphantly. “It smells mighty good, too! Hurry up, Nel, with those potatoes, or I’ll perish before your very eyes.”
“Where’s the lard?” asked Bob. “Tommy said there was lots of it. Look in the ice box, Bob.”
“Here it is: ‘Leaf Lard,’ whatever that is.”
“Got any water on for tea, Bob?” asked Nelson.
“No, put some in the kettle, will you? I’ll cut these potatoes up, what you’ve left of them; I rather think we’d get more if I fried the skins!”
“Oh, you run away and play,” answered Nelson. “They’re peeled to the Queen’s taste.”
“Perhaps the Queen had more potatoes than we have,” was the answer. “You get out of here, Dan, you’re in the way.”
“You’ll set the table,” said Nelson, “that’s what you’ll do.”
“Put the cloth on and I’ll come and help you,” answered Nelson.
Twenty minutes later they were seated around the table on which steamed a dish of corned-beef hash, nicely browned about the edges, a dish of hashed brown potatoes, and three cups of very strong tea. There was bread, too, and cheese in a little crockery jar, and jam and crackers. Dan uttered a sigh of content as he piled his plate.
“Tommy doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he said.
“I wish to goodness he’d show up,” said Bob. “Is it clearing up any, Dan?”
“Not so you’d notice it,” replied that youth who had been up on deck a moment before. “It’s as thick as ever and maybe thicker.”
“Well, Tommy’ll turn up all right, I guess,” said Nelson.
“When he does I’ll bet he will be hungry enough to eat raw dog,” said Dan. “Gee, but this hash is swell! Who’s got the bread?”
“Have some butter, won’t you, Dan?” begged Nelson.
“Well, I should say not! With my complexion? What are you thinking about? Say, how would a little lard taste on the bread, fellows?”
“You might try it,” answered Bob. “I dare say it wouldn’t be any worse than some butter I’ve met.”
They were very hungry, very merry, and very noisy, and as a consequence of the latter fact they did not hear the sound of oars outside or of feet on the deck, nothing, in fact, until some one stumbled wearily down the steps and appeared at the stateroom door.
Tommy, very tired looking and extremely damp, dragged himself across the floor and sank onto the edge of a bunk, staring famishedly at the table.
