“Not a drop in it.”  He turned it upside down.

Every eye went to Kaviak.  He was sitting on his cricket by the fire waiting for dinner.  He returned the accusing looks of the company with self-possession.

“Come here.”  He got up and trotted over to “Farva.”

“Have you been to the syrup?”

Kaviak shook his head.

“You must have been.”

“No.”

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“How did it go—­all away—­Do you know?”

Again the silent denial.  Kaviak looked over his shoulder at the dinner preparations, and then went back to his cricket.  It was the best place from which to keep a strict eye on the cook.

“The gintlemin don’t feel conversaytional wid a pint o’ surrup in his inside.”

“I tell you he’d be currled up with colic if he—­”

“Well,” said O’Flynn hopefully, “bide a bit.  He ain’t lookin’ very brash.”

“Come here.”

Kaviak got up a second time, but with less alacrity.

“Have you got a pain?”

He stared.

“Does it hurt you there?” Kaviak doubled up suddenly.

“He’s awful ticklish,” said the Boy.

Mac frowned with perplexity, and Kaviak retired to the cricket.

“Does the can leak anywhere?”

“That excuse won’t hold water ’cause the can will.”  The Colonel had just applied the test.

“Besides, it would have leaked on to something,” Mac agreed.

“Oh, well, let’s mosy along with our dinner,” said Potts.

“It’s gettin’ pretty serious,” remarked the Colonel.  “We can’t afford to lose a pint o’ syrup.”

“No, Siree, we can’t; but there’s one thing about Kaviak,” said the Boy, “he always owns up.  Look here, Kiddie:  don’t say no; don’t shake your head till you’ve thought.  Now, think hard.”

Kaviak’s air of profound meditation seemed to fill every requirement.

“Did you take the awful good syrup and eat it up?”

Kaviak was in the middle of a head-shake when he stopped abruptly.  The Boy had said he wasn’t to do that.  Nobody had seemed pleased when he said “No.”

“I b’lieve we’re on the right track.  He’s remembering.  Think again.  You are a tip-top man at finding sugar, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fin’ shugh.”  Kaviak modestly admitted his prowess in that direction.

“And you get hungry in the early morning?”

Yes, he would go so far as to admit that he did.

“You go skylarkin’ about, and you remember—­the syrup can!  And you get hold of it—­didn’t you?”

“To-malla.”

“You mean yesterday—­this morning?”

“N—­”

“Sh!”

Kaviak blinked.

“Wait and think.  Yesterday this was full.  You remember Mac opened it for you?”

Kaviak nodded.

“And now, you see”—­he turned the can bottom side up—­“all gone!”