“I hope not, Bob,” said Dallas, yawning. “I’ve often thought of something of the kind. One thing is certain, that if we don’t find much more gold than we have got so far we shall have earned our fortunes.”
“Fortunes!” cried Abel contemptuously; “why, at the rate we have been going on, if we get enough to pay for our journey home, as well as for our provisions, that will be about all.”
“And except for the pleasant trip, my sons, we might as well have stopped at home.”
Chapter Twenty Eight.
A strange discovery.
Dallas stared the next morning when he opened his eyes, for the fire was burning brightly and Abel was bustling about in the lit-up hut, with nothing but a slight limp to tell of the old frost-bite in his foot.
“Come,” he said cheerfully; “breakfast is nearly ready.”
“Where’s Bob Tregelly?” cried Dallas.