“Wait,” he said. “You will know in good time.”
Perry felt abashed, and wished that he had not asked, mentally determining not to question his father again, while, as he recalled his conversations with Cyril, he began to feel that his new friend’s ideas must be right. Directly after, he felt sure that they were, for John Manning edged up to him, where the path was a little wider, and said in a whisper:
“Master won’t tell you, then, Master Perry?”
“Won’t tell me what?” said Perry rather shortly.
“What we’re going after. Strikes me as we’re going treasure-hunting, and we shall get into one of them wonderful valleys you read of in the ’Rabian Nights, where the precious stones lies about so thick, you can scoop ’em up.”
“Oh, nonsense!”
“Do you know what the next country is to this?”
“Well, I suppose, if you went far enough over the mountains, you’d come to Brazil.”
“Zackley, sir; and what comes from Brazil?”
“Nuts,” said Perry, laughing. “Hard-shelled, oily nuts, that are horribly nasty to eat.”