"Oh, take me back to Minóok, anyway!"
He said a few words about fare to the Captain's back. As that magnate did not distinctly say "No"—indeed, walked off making conversation with the engineer—twenty hands helped the new passenger to get Nig and the canoe on board.
"Well, got a gold-mine?" asked Potts.
"Yes, sir."
"Where's the Colonel?" Mac rasped out, with his square jaw set for judgment.
"Colonel's all right—at Minóok. We've got a gold-mine apiece."
"Anny gowld in 'em?"
"Yes, sir, and no salt, neither."
"Sorry to see success has gone to your head," drawled Potts, eyeing the Boy's long hair. "I don't see any undue signs of it elsewhere."
"Faith! I do, thin. He's turned wan o' thim hungry, grabbin' millionaires."