This rejecting of hospitality was perfectly understood by Slavin and by all.
‘Dat’s too bad, heh?’ said Baptiste wickedly; ‘and, Sandy, he’s got good money on his pocket for sure, too.’ The boys laughed, and Slavin, joining in, turned away with Keele and Blaney; but by the look in his eye I knew he was playing ‘Br’er Rabbit,’ and lying low.
Mr. Craig just then came up, ‘Hello, boys! too late for Punch and Judy, but just in time for hot coffee and doughnuts.’
‘Bon; dat’s fuss rate,’ said Baptiste heartily; ‘where you keep him?’
‘Up in the tent next the church there. The miners are all in.’
‘Ah, dat so? Dat’s bad news for the shantymen, heh, Sandy?’ said the little Frenchman dolefully.
‘There was a clothes-basket full of doughnuts and a boiler of coffee left as I passed just now,’ said Craig encouragingly.
‘Allons, mes garcons; vite! never say keel!’ cried Baptiste excitedly, stripping off the harness.
But Sandy would not leave the horses till they were carefully rubbed down, blanketed, and fed, for he was entered for the four-horse race and it behoved him to do his best to win. Besides, he scorned to hurry himself for anything so unimportant as eating; that he considered hardly worthy even of Baptiste. Mr. Craig managed to get a word with him before he went off, and I saw Sandy solemnly and emphatically shake his head, saying, ‘Ah! we’ll beat him this day,’ and I gathered that he was added to the vigilance committee.
Old man Nelson was busy with his own team. He turned slowly at Mr. Craig’s greeting, ‘How is it, Nelson?’ and it was with a very grave voice he answered, ‘I hardly know, sir; but I am not gone yet, though it seems little to hold to.’