"Sho!" said Adler a little blankly. "I thought sure—I never thought that you—why, there ain't no one else but you can do it, captain."
"Oh, yes, there is," said Bennett listlessly. "Duane can—if he has luck. I know him. He's a good man. No, I'm out of it, Adler; I had my chance. It is somebody else's turn now. Do you want to go with Duane? I can give you letters to him. He'd be glad to have you, I know."
Adler started from his place.
"Why, do you think—" he exclaimed vehemently—"do you think I'd go with anybody else but you, sir? Oh, you will be going some of these days, I'm sure of it. We—we'll have another try at it, sir, before we die. We ain't beaten yet."
"Yes, we are, Adler," returned Bennett, smiling calmly; "we'll stay at home now and write our book. But we'll let some one else reach the Pole. That's not for us—never will be, Adler."
At the end of their talk some half-hour later Adler stood up, remarking:
"Guess I'd better be standing by if I'm to get the last train back to the City to-night. They told me at the station that she'd clear about midnight." Suddenly he began to show signs of uneasiness, turning his cap about between his fingers, changing his weight from foot to foot. Then at length:
"You wouldn't be wanting a man about the place, would you, sir?" And before Bennett could reply he continued eagerly, "I've been a bit of most trades in my time, and I know how to take care of a garden like as you have here; I'm a main good hand with plants and flower things, and I could help around generally." Then, earnestly, "Let me stay, sir—it won't cost—I wouldn't think of taking a cent from you, captain. Just let me act as your orderly for a spell, sir. I'd sure give satisfaction; will you, sir—will you?"
"Nonsense, Adler," returned Bennett; "stay, if you like. I presume I can find use for you. But you must be paid, of course."
"Not a soomarkee," protested the other almost indignantly.