He drew out of the swollen leather bag a stone as big as a small marble, and held it out.
“Yes; and that’s yours, my boy,” cried Mark excitedly; “whatever it fetches shall be for you.”
“What! my own?” cried Bob.
“Yes—yes!”
“To do what I like with, sir?”
“Well, it shall be applied for your benefit, my lad.”
“Then I wants some on it now!” cried the boy excitedly.
“What for?” said Rich.
“To get my old ooman home.”
“And I want one, Mark,” cried Hendon.