"It doesn't," his mate agreed. "But distance is deceptive here. How's the meal going?"
"Just about ready," Cumshaw told him. "I came to call you."
The two men walked side by side to the hut. At the entrance Cumshaw paused. "Nearer fourteen than ten," he said thoughtfully.
"Very likely," said Bradby indifferently. "What about that meal? I'm as hungry as a hunter."
They were on short commons. Bradby ate heartily, remarking once that there'd be food enough to go round to-morrow. Cumshaw laughed and said he hoped so, but that to-morrow was a day that never came to some people. Bradby absently ignored the challenge in Cumshaw's reply and kept silence for the rest of the time.
After breakfast the two of them took the saddle-bags down to the hole, placed them inside, and then stamped the earth tightly down on top of them.
"Now that's done," said Bradby, with an air of relief, "the sooner we get out of here the better."
"How about old bones over there?" Cumshaw said, pointing to the skeleton.
"Better sling him into the bushes," Bradby suggested, all his superstitious fears vanishing now that it was broad daylight.
"Poor old sinner," said Cumshaw as he lifted up the remains in his strong arms. "It might just as easily be one of us."