“The same way as you did, and to get gold.”
“Well, so I supposed. There, just as you like. I will not press you to tell me.”
“I tell you there is no need. For your story is mine. We thought as brothers with one brain; we made the same plan; we travelled with the same means; we supplied the dear old aunt and mother from the same true-hearted source. Bel, old lad, don’t you know me? It is I, Dal, and we meet like this!”
“Great heaven!” gasped Abel, in his low, husky whisper. “It has turned his brain. Impossible! Yes, that is it; the air is turning hot and strange at last, and this has driven me mad. It is all a wandering dream.”
Chapter Seven.
Fevered dreams.
“It is no wandering dream, Bel. I tell you I seem to have been inspired to do exactly the same as you did, and I went to Uncle Morgan, who treated me just as he treated you.”
“Yes, a dream—off my head,” said Abel Wray, in his harsh whisper.