"Both of us, I fancy. Anyway, that's not quite the question."
Leger made a last effort. "Now," he said, "you know very well that your chance of finding gold on the new claim is good, and we can very easily afford to grub-stake you until you strike it. In this country it's quite a common arrangement. Apart from that—since you seem to be so abnormally sensitive—there's enough for you and me to do chopping wood for the oven in the evenings to square the account altogether. I have, of course, pointed that out already; but if you will make an effort, I think you will remember that there was a time when you insisted on lending me what was, in the circumstances, a considerable sum of money."
"I can remember most clearly that only the fear of seeing you arrested for manslaughter induced a certain young lady to agree to it."
Hetty looked up sharply. "I'm not going to answer that—I'm too vexed," she said. "It isn't the least use trying to persuade him, Tom."
"No," said Leger, with a little gesture of resignation, "I'm afraid it isn't. You are going to work for Tomlinson, Walter?"
"Yes," said Ingleby. "That is, now and then—a day or two to keep me going while I find out what is in the claim. He wants more water, and is putting up a flume. I had a five-dollar bill from him yesterday."
He stopped a moment, and the firelight showed there was a trace of deeper colour than usual in his face as he held out a little strip of paper to Hetty.
"Will you put that to my credit, and let me have two loaves now?" he said.
Leger said something viciously that was not very distinct, while Hetty sat still a moment glancing at the paper without touching it, and then gravely held out her hand.
"You will get them in the store," she said.