“Where?” said Bostock. “There aren’t nothing but some bits o’ stone and seaweed.”
“Nonsense!” cried Carey, impatiently. “You can see it, can’t you, doctor?”
“No, I see nothing,” was the reply.
“Here, let me look again,” cried Carey, and the doctor made way.
“Oh!” ejaculated the boy, in a disappointed tone; “it’s gone!”
Bostock shook his head solemnly.
“You’re a-getting better, young gen’leman,” he said.
“Of course I am,” said Carey; “but what do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t, sir. There was a young chap once as kep’ sheep, and he’d got a larky sort o’ sperrit, and every now and then he used to begin running, and—”
“Yes, yes, I know,” cried Carey, indignantly; “and cry ‘wolf! wolf!’ But do you think—”