“And what should we do, Pan? Where could we go so as to make a living?”
“Make a living?” said Pan, in a wondering tone. “Don’t want to make a living—we want to make a fortune.”
“But we must have some money.”
“I’ve got two shillings saved up.”
Syd’s brow puckered. He knew a little more about the necessities of life, and did not feel disposed to set sail on the river of life with no more than two shillings.
“But you’ve got some money, Master Syd?”
“Yes; eight or nine shillings, and a crown uncle gave me day before yesterday.”
“Come along then, that’s enough.”
Syd hesitated, and thought of the five guineas thrown down in his room.
“If you don’t come they’ll send you to sea.”