"You don't mean to say you're going to stop our talking," said Tom, in indignation.
"That's just what I do mean to say. Now stop—or go hungry."
As the Rovers did not wish to starve, they relapsed into silence. A meal was being prepared by the Baxter party, and the appetizing odors floated into the inner chamber, where Tom and Sam sniffed them eagerly, for the walk and the bracing air had given them an appetite.
"Smells good, don't it?" remarked Dan Baxter, as he came in, fire-brand in hand, and confronted Tom.
"What, the cave?" asked Tom carelessly.
"No, the grub."
"Oh, you are cooking something, aren't you?"
"You know well enough that we are."
"Well, I can't stop you, Baxter, so cook away."
"Don't you want something to eat?"
"To be sure we do," put in Sam. "Nobody wants to go hungry."
"Perhaps you'll have to go hungry," said Dan Baxter significantly.
"It would be just like you to starve us, Baxter!" burst out Tom. "I know you are as mean as they make them."
"No compliments, please. I know my business, Tom Rover; and let me say I am in this game to win."
