"
"Always hungry," laughed one of the others. "The rest of us eat to live,
but Tom lives to eat."
"You've struck it there, Dick," assented the third. "You know they say
that no one has ever been able to eat a quail a day for thirty days hand
running, but I'd be willing to back Tom to do it."
"Well, I wouldn't quail at the prospect," began Tom complacently, and
then ducked as Dick made a pass at him.
"Even at that, I haven't got anything on you fellows," he went on, in an
aggrieved tone. "When you disciples of 'plain living and high thinking'
get at the dinner table, I notice that it soon becomes a case of high
living and plain thinking."
"Such low-brow insinuations deserve no answer," said Dick severely.
"Anyway," consulting his watch, "it's only half-past eleven, so you'll
have to curb the promptings of your grosser nature."
"No later than that?" groaned Tom. "I don't know when a morning has
seemed so long in passing."
"It _is_ a little slow. I suppose it's this blistering heat and the long
distance between stations. It's about time something happened to break
the monotony.
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