Ossie was ill toward morning, but there was nothing they could do for him except huddle closely about him.

He complained of intense pains in his chest and Steve had horrible visions of pneumonia until Ossie, asked to locate the trouble more definitely, laid a trembling hand on a portion of his anatomy and muttered "Here" through chattering teeth.
"That's not your chest, you idiot," said Steve, vastly relieved.

"That's your stomach!" "Is it ?" returned the sufferer miserably.

"Well, it hurts just the same!" But after an hour he felt considerably better and went off to sleep.

By that time it was early morning and they could see about them.