"That's quite right, Ticehurst—quite right!" said he energetically. "I'm glad you talk like that; your head's screwed on right; you will be well in yet" (an Australian phrase for our "well off"), "I'll bet on that. Well, you can open a store, or go lumbering, or gold-mining, or hunting, or raise cattle, like me."
I pretended to reflect, though I nearly laughed at catching Harmer's eye, for he knew quite well what I wanted to do.
"Yes, Mr. Fleming, you're right. That's nearly all one can do. But as to keeping a store, you see, I've been so accustomed to an open-air life, I don't think it would suit me. Besides, a big man like me ought to do something else than sell trousers! As to gold-mining, I've done that, and been lucky once, which, in such a gambling game, is against me. And hunting or trapping—well, there's nothing great in that. I think I should prefer cattle-raising, if I could do it. I was brought up on a farm in England, and why shouldn't I die on one in British Columbia, or" (and I looked at Elsie) "in Australia?"
"Quite right, Tom," said Fanny, laughing, for she was too cute to miss seeing what I meant.
Mr. Fleming looked at me approvingly.
"You'll die worth a lot yet, Tom Ticehurst. I like your spirit. I was just the same once. Now, I'll tell you what. Did you ever see George Nettlebury at the Forks?"
"No," I replied, "not that I know of."
"I dare say you have," said he; "he's mostly drunk; and Indian Alice, who is always with him, usually has a black eye, as a gentle reminder that she belongs to an inferior race, if she is his wife. Now, he lives about two miles from here, over yonder" (he pointed over the valley). "He has a house—a very dirty one now, it is true; a stable, and a piece of meadow, fenced in, where he could raise good hay if he would mend the fence and keep other folks' cattle out. He told me the other day that he was sick to death of this place, and he wants just enough to go East with, and return to his old trade of shipbuilding. He says he will take $300 for the whole place, with what is on it. That don't amount to much—two cows, one old steer, and a cayuse he rides round on. If you like, we'll go over and see him. You can buy it, and buy some more cattle, and if you have more next winter than you can feed, I'll let you have the hay cheap. What do you say?"
My heart leapt up, but I pretended I wanted time to think about it.
"Then let's ride over now, and you can look at the place," said he; rising.