“Let’s go back and have some lunch in the boat first,” said Brace, smiling at his companion’s earnestness. “We can then hoist the sail and run back to the brig and tell my brother that you’ve broken out with the gold fever, and that there is to be no more collecting of specimens.”
“No, we won’t,” said Briscoe drily; “for I’ve said what I did to you in confidence, and you won’t say a word. I’m going to collect and do as you do; but there’s nothing to hinder me from making a grand discovery besides, is there?”
“Oh, no,” said Brace merrily; “but I don’t see any reason why we should keep it a secret from my brother and the rest.”
“Perhaps not, but I do. We don’t want the brig’s crew to go mad, do we?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then don’t you say a word about there being gold in this river for them to hear or the consequences might be serious.”
“I shall not speak about it, for I don’t think there is any.”
“Perhaps not,” said Briscoe drily; “but I do. For there is, and plenty of it.”
“What?” cried Brace.
“That’s right. Don’t be surprised. By-and-by I’ll show you, and open your eyes.”