"Cold as it is and going to be colder?"
"Cold as it is and the colder the better."
"You'll stay alone," cried Mr. Puddlebox. "Curse me if I'll stay with you."
"You needn't," said Mr. Wriford. "I'm not asking you to."
"But you think I'm going to," cried Mr. Puddlebox. "And you're wrong, for I'm not. I'm going straight back, and I'm going at once, the quicker to fetch you to your senses. I'm going, boy;" and in advertisement of his intention Mr. Puddlebox began resolutely to move away.
Mr. Wriford as resolutely turned to the barrier of rocks and began to climb.
"Come on, boy," called Mr. Puddlebox.
Mr. Wriford called back: "No. No, I'm going to stay. I'm going to see the night through."
"You'll know where to find me," cried Mr. Puddlebox. "I'll be where we lay last night."
Mr. Wriford's laugh came to him through the gathering gloom, and through the gloom he saw Mr. Wriford's form midway up the rocks. "And you'll know where to find me," Mr. Wriford called.