Mickey carried the torch, because he wished to use it himself. He led the way back to where the stream disappeared from view, and there he made another careful examination, his purpose being different from what it had been in the first place. He stooped over and peered at the dark walls, noting the width of the stream and the contour of the bank, as well as the level of the land on the right. Evidently he had some scheme which he was considering.
He said nothing, but spent fully a half hour in his self-imposed task, during which Fred stood in the background, trying to make out what he was driving at. He saw that Mickey was so intently occupied that he was scarcely conscious of the presence of any one else, and he did not attempt to disturb him. Suddenly the Celt roused himself from his abstraction, and, turning to the expectant lad, abruptly asked:
“Do you know, me laddy, that it is dinner-time?”
“I feel as though it was, but we have no means of judging the time, being as neither of us carries a watch.”
“Come on,” added the Irishman, leading in the direction of the camp-fire. “I'm sorry I didn't bring my watch wid me, but the trouble was, I was afeard that it might tire out my horse, for it was of goodly size. The last time it got out of order, it took a blacksmith in the owld country nearly a week to mend it. It was rather large, but it would have been handy. Whenever we wanted to cook anything, we could have used the case for a stew-pan, or we could have b'iled eggs in the same, and when we started our hotel at New Boston, it would have done for a gong. It was rather tiresome to wind up nights, as the key didn't give you much leverage, and if your hold happened to slip, you was likely to fall down and hurt yersilf. But here we are, as Jimmy O'Donovan said when he j'ined his father and mother in jail.”
CHAPTER XXX. DISCUSSIONS AND PLANS
When they reached the camp-fire, it had burned so low that they threw on considerable more wood before sitting down to their lunch. As it flamed up and the cheerful light forced the oppressive gloom back from around them, both felt a corresponding rise in spirits.
“It was lucky that I brought along that maat,” remarked Mickey, as he produced the venison, already cooked and prepared for the palate. “It's a custom that Mr. Soot Simpson showed me, and I like it very much. You note that the maat would be a great deal better if we had some salt and pepper, or if we could keep it a few days till it got tender; but, as it is, I think we'll worry it down.”
“It seems to me that I never tasted anything better,” responded Fred, “but that, I suppose, is because I become so hungry before tasting it.”