Winslow simply laughed.
“You have a lot to learn yet,” he said, “my young friend; but I admire your courage, and your generous-heartedness, though not your business habits.”
Archie and Bob paid many a visit to Wistaria Grove—the name of Winslow’s place—during the three weeks previous to the start from Sydney.
One day, when alone with Archie, Winslow thrust an envelope into his hands.
“That’s your fifty pounds,” he said. “Why, count it, lad; don’t stow it away like that. It ain’t business.”
“Why,” said Archie, “here are three hundred pounds, not fifty pounds!”
“It’s all yours, lad, every penny; and if you don’t put it up I’ll put it in the fire.”
“But explain.”
“Yes, nothing more easy. You mustn’t be angry. No? Well, then, I knew, from all accounts, you were a chip o’ the old block, and there was no use offending your silly pride by offering to lend you money to buy a morsel of claim, so I simply borrowed yours and put it out for you.”
“Put it out for me?”