“About how much do you think it will realise?” asked Obed.
“At a rough guess, I should say three thousand pounds. It may be more and it may be less.”
Obed Stackpole’s rough face was fairly radiant.
“I say, boys,” he remarked, turning to Harry and Jack, “that’s a pretty good day’s work, isn’t it?”
“I should say so, Obed.”
The commissioner made out a receipt, which Obed put away carefully in his pocket.
“That’s better than carrying the nugget round,” he said.
“I suppose you will go to Melbourne,” said the commissioner.
“Yes, we shall start in a day or two.”
Here Obed paused, for it occurred to him that there were practical difficulties in the way of carrying out his plan.