“Try and eat the damper, old fellow,” he said. “You must have food.”
“I can’t, Dal. I say, how much gold is there in the hole?”
“I daresay there’s five-and-twenty ounces.”
“You must take it, and contrive to get away from here, Dal,” said Abel suddenly.
“And you?”
“Get back home again. She’ll break her heart if she loses us both.”
Thud!
There was a heavy blow at the rough door, and then another.
“Norton come to look us up,” whispered Dallas.
“No; he would not knock like that,” whispered back Abel—needlessly, for the roar of the storm would have made the voices inaudible outside.