Murray turned away with an impatient gesture, and exchanged glances with Mr Braine.
“I’m very sorry, sor,” said Tim, quite crest-fallen, for he had been longing intensely to go on the trip. “The masther thought it would do me good, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Oh yes, you can come, my man,” said Murray. “Take hold of that bag of cartridges, and go on after Hamet.”
“Thank ye, sor,” cried the man eagerly; and taking up the bag, and giving the two boys a delighted look, he hurried off.
“Sure, if I stay near him, and he looks at me,” said Tim to himself, “he may alter that bit of him that he calls his mind.”
As soon as Tim was out of hearing, Murray said excitedly: “There, you will be another man short. I had better give up the expedition.”
“Nonsense! go, and I would try and make a discovery of metal if I could, even if it is only tin again. If you could hit upon gold, even if it is only some poor deposit in a stream, it would be worth everything to us now, from making him more friendly to us. Spend a little time over that as well as over the birds.”
“Then you would go?”
“Certainly, and at once.”
“Ready, boys?” cried Murray, quickly now, for he felt that if he thought much more about the trouble at the doctor’s home, he would not be able to go.