"He's in there," said Jim, nodding vaguely in the direction of their burrow.
"That's a good ides. Let us have a look at him." And Jim started off to fetch Robinson out. "And you might bring my things out too, Jim. My back's getting raw with the sun."
Jim grinned and crept into the hole, and reappeared presently with an armful of clothing and a richly bound volume.
Eager put on his other sock and his shirt and trousers, and then sat down again and picked up the book. It was an unusually fine edition of the old story, with large coloured plates, and had not been improved by its sojourn in the land.
"Does your grandfather know you have this out here?"
Most decidedly not.
"I should take it back if I were you, or keep it wrapped in paper. It's spoiling with the sand and damp. It always hurts me to see a good book spoiled. Are there many more like this at the house?"
"Heaps,"--which opened out further pleasant prospects if the mine proved workable.
"Have you gone right through it?"
"Only 'bout the pictures."