For a minute or two they stood grasping each other's hand, their feelings being too full for further speech.
"Sit you down right here, Norris," one of the miners said, rising, "no doubt you will like a talk together, and we will leave you to yourselves."
The other miners rose, and with the real courtesy and kindness which lurked under the rough nature of the diggers, all left the spot. Captain Bayley was the first to speak.
"But here is some one else wants to shake your hand, Frank, an old friend too."
The fire was not burning very brightly, and although Frank seemed to know the young fellow who stood leaning lightly on two sticks, he could not recall where he had seen him before.
"Don't you remember me, Frank," he said, "the lad whom you took so much trouble with over his Homer."
"Harry Holl," Frank said in astonishment.
"It was as Harry Holl that you knew him, but we have since found out that he is my grandson, the son of my daughter Ella," Captain Bayley explained.
"Then you are my cousin," Frank said, advancing and shaking Harry's hand; "but how on earth have you and uncle come out here?"
"Let us sit down by the fire, Frank, for the evening is chilly, and then I will tell you all about it. But first, how about that enormous brute of a dog, who doesn't seem to have made up his mind whether the proper thing is not to devour us at once."