“Well, I dunno how you knew that,” said Tregelly; “but it was something of the kind.”
“That’s right, then we will; eh, Bel?”
“Of course; if Tregelly will consent to share with such a weak, helpless—”
“Here,” cried the big Cornishman, springing up, “shall I kick him?”
“No, no; let him off.”
“But he do deserve it,” said Tregelly, subsiding. “Now, I was going to say it don’t seem quite fair for me to stop, as those precious three—if there is three of ’em left unhung—not having shown up, there don’t seem any need.”
“More need than ever,” said Dallas. “Your being here scares them away.”
“Hope it do,” said Tregelly. “Then look here, we’ll go down to my pit to-morrow, and bring up the sledge load, including my bit of ice, for it can’t be so very long now before it’ll begin to thaw a bit every day, and I don’t want my block to melt and let out the gold. There’s more there than you’d think.”
“But that’s yours,” said Abel.
“Nay, nay, my son; we’ll put it all together. You’ve got some, and there’s a lot yonder outside when the soft weather comes and we can wash it out; so that’s settled. Wonder whether working in that hot damp shaft’ll give us rheumatiz by-and-by.”