“You don’t know till you try. And you take my advice: let your brother—”
“My cousin.”
“Well, it’s all the same out here. Let him sleep all he can, and when he’s awake feed him up and keep him warm.”
“I can’t get rid of the feeling that I ought to go back to Yukon Town and try to get a doctor.”
“Nonsense, my son; he wants no doctor. And now look here; if I say something to you, will you believe that it’s meant honest?”
“Of course. What do you mean?”
“Only this, my son; that I don’t want you to think that I want to come and sponge upon you because you’ve got plenty of prog.”
“Mr Tregelly!”
“Let me finish, my lad,” said the big Cornishman. “I was going to say, what do you think of me coming and pigging here with you for a bit, in case what the youngster here says might be right; and if it is, you and me could polish off that gang pretty well, better than you could alone, or I could alone. Not that I’m skeered; but if young Wray here is right they’ll be down upon me too. But I don’t want you to think—”
“But what about your gold?” said Dallas eagerly.