“Just as well not said, my lad: but no harm’s done.”
“Have you found anything yet?”
“No; but it’s only the second day, you remember.”
“You still think that the third day will be the lucky one?”
“Yes, if any.”
“That is to-morrow.”
“Yes, to-morrow will decide. If I don’t find any thing to-morrow, I shall give it up for a bad job, and come back.”
They had a tent just off the grounds. Here they slept and lived, cooking their food, and keeping house, if it may be called so. When the day’s work was over, Bush generally sat down at the door of the tent, and smoked a pipe. He tried to induce Harry to do the same; but our hero had never touched tobacco, and had no cravings for it. So he always declined.
When the pipe was smoked, Bush, if he happened to feel in a communicative mood, often related incidents from his life, which had been an adventurous one. To these narrations Harry always listened with interest.