“Now, Pointer, if you do I’ll hit you with this board, so there.”
A body obstructed the light, then two bare legs appeared overhead. Hope made two vigorous blows with the board. There was a yell, “You’ve broken my little toe,” followed by several more yells as the legs rapidly vanished. “You spiteful, black-eyed, turned-up-nose native cat! Oh, my toe! I’ll get square with you, and you two grinning, curley-headed little bandicoots.” Pointer’s natural history must have received a bump, also.
On landing, he took the peg out of the windlass, revolved the barrel, so that the rope ran out and fell down the shaft. “Now you can stop down there until you starve,” he yelled down to them, and limped away.
“I’ll tell father what he called us,” said Grace, who was sensitive. “We can’t help our hair being curly. And how are we to get up, Hope? Daddy will come for us, and we must not tell tales unless he asks us about the rope. Boys are all like that; they can’t help it.”
“I’m glad I won’t grow up into a boy; aren’t you, Grace?” said Joy, with fervor.
“While we are waiting for father we will pick out all the gold we can,” said Hope.
So they set to work, unmindful of the passage of time.
“This is all our gold, because we found it,” said Hope; “and we will give it all to mother, just as father does, except what we keep to buy them presents. Now, each choose. Joy first, because she is the youngest.”
It is remarkable the capital Joy made out of such a short period. She never allowed anyone to overlook the fact.
“I’ll choose a new frying pan, because ours has a crack in it, and, if I can have two ‘goes,’ a side of bacon.”