“But can’t you see that the chances are very much against any one finding this place?”
“No, sir. It’ll be a tight job, no doubt; but what one man could do, going without the slightest idee where to go nor what there was to find, surely half-a-dozen of us, counting the young nippers in, could do, knowing that the gold’s there waiting for us, and that we’ve only got to find the right spot.”
“Only!” said Bourne sadly.
“Yes, sir, only. There, if I talk much more I shall want to go back home to see if there is one ripe orange on my plantation that I can suck. So I’ll just put my opinions down straight. Those is them—I say, Squire Ned, that’s bad grammar, ain’t it?”
“Horrible,” replied the boy, laughing.
“Never mind; you understood it. Look here, gentlemen, there’s a fine chance here for a fortune, and I say, have a try for it, and take me with you to help, share and share alike. I’ll work with you, fight for you, and share all the trouble like a man. It’s worth the try, and I think so much of it that if you say downright that you won’t go I shall see if I can find a trusty mate, and go myself. There, that’s all.”
Griggs threw himself back on his seat so as to get his back square against the wall, tilting the stool on two legs, and looked sharply round the table, and then at Wilton, who had risen and come round to him to offer his hand.
The American looked at the long brown fingers and then up in their owner’s face.
“What’s that for?” he said. “Want me to shake, and then go home, because you’re tired of me?”
“No,” cried Wilton fiercely. “It’s for you to give me yours. I say you’re right, Griggs. The place must be found, and I’ll go with you to work and fight, and through thick and thin, for I believe in you as a true man. I’ll go with you, and we’ll find the treasure or come back, worn out, to die.”