“But the result is that Harry’s brother is safe at home, Fred, and that I have not lost another companion.”
The doctor stretched out his hand to his rather excitable friend, who grasped it directly.
“That’s very good of you, Bob, old fellow. Thank you; but I felt it bitterly not being allowed to go in search of poor Harry.”
“Yes, but so did Frank.”
“Of course, poor boy. He would. Ah, well, I tried my best. I feel it, though, and I am very miserable doing my work in the museum instead of in Egypt amongst the sand. I suppose the upper country will become settled again.”
“Sure to,” said the doctor, “and in the meantime why don’t you go and try Nineveh or Babylon?”
“No; I can’t take up an entirely fresh rut. I must give years upon years yet to the sand-buried cities and tombs of Egypt. Ah! what an endless mine of wonders it is.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“With everything so preserved by the drifting sand.”
“But the ruins of the Tigris and Euphrates must be equally interesting.”