“Unless he has attacked and murdered some one,” said Abel bitterly. “But you will see.”
The poor fellow was so exhausted by what he had gone through that, after painfully swallowing some of the tea that had been prepared, he dropped into a stupor-like sleep, whilst Dallas watched him anxiously.
“That was fancy of his, my lad,” said Tregelly, who was making a hearty breakfast. “Come, you don’t eat.”
“How can I, with the poor fellow like this?” cried Dallas. “He seems to come in for all the misfortune.”
“Yes, he is a bit unlucky,” replied Tregelly; “but you must eat if you want to help him. Look here, I don’t want to be unfeeling; but your mate isn’t dying of fever.”
“No, no; but look at him.”
“Yes, I have, and he has been a good deal knocked about, besides having a frozen foot; but that will all get well. You are set up with provisions again; you’ve got your gold back, and a good claim of your own.”
“Just good enough to keep us alive.”
“Well, it isn’t very lively work, my lad,” said Tregelly; “but we must make the best of it. We shall have the summer again soon, and do better, perhaps.”
“I hope so,” said Dallas bitterly, “for we could never get through another winter like this.”