“Ah, that’s good,” he said, sipping the soup. “I’ll be myself again to-morrow, and save you all this trouble. You know I must have accomplished a good deal, to break off that ledge, and the gold fairly leaped out on me as I worked.”
“Did you see it?”
“No, but I knew it––I felt it. Shake my clothes and see if they aren’t full of it.”
“Was that what put you in such a frenzy and made a fool of you?”
“Yes––no––no. It––it––wasn’t that.”
“You know you were a fool, don’t you?”
“If telling me of it makes me know it––yes.”
“Eat a little more. Here are beans and venison. You must eat to make up the loss. Why, man, I found you in a pool of blood.”
“Oh, I’ll make it up. I’ll make it up all too soon. I’m not to die so easily.”
“You’ll not make it up as soon as you think, young man. You may lose a quart of blood in a minute, but it takes weeks to get it again,” and Harry King found his friend was right.