"What's happened to Dad?" was Barry Dane's first question. "He seems to be all in."
"He certainly is," Martin replied. "I found him up stream down on his knees, clawing at the ground, and jabbering away at a great rate. He's gold mad, that's what's the trouble with him. Come, Nance," and he turned toward her; "a piece of that meat and a cup of tea will do him much good."
Nance had been staring hard at the pathetic figure of the old man. He looked so frail and helpless that her eyes filled with tears as she watched him.
"Say, Dad, what's wrong with you?" Barry asked, stepping over to Seddon, and laying a heavy hand upon his shoulder.
But the poor creature simply stared, and continued his muttering as before. He ate ravenously the food Nance brought him, and gulped down a cup of tea.
"What are we to do with him?" Jim Lane asked. "We can't take him with us, that's sure."
"Leave him here," Martin replied. "We will look after him as well as we can. I think he'll be all right after he has had a good sleep."
"It's kind of you, sir," Barry remarked, "and we won't forget it. We have a long trail ahead of us and could hardly manage Dad. And, besides, we've no grub until we strike our cache down stream. Could you let us have some meat?"
"I think we can," and Martin crossed over to the larder as he spoke. "We have a little meat and a small supply of smoked fish. We can spare some, eh, Nance?"
"Yes," Nance replied. "We can get along very well, as we shall soon have fresh fish from the lake."