“S-s-same,” stammered Dave,
“’E’s a jolly sport,” sighed Jarvis, as the man went out. “Next ’e’ll offer strawberries for dessert.”
Imagine their utter astonishment when the man returned presently with a wooden tray heavily laden with food, and on it, not only two heaping wooden bowls of head lettuce, but two smaller bowls of luscious red strawberries, and beside each of these, a little wooden pitcher of rich cream.
“Sorry we have to offer our food in such plain dishes,” smiled the host. “We have experimented with pottery but have had no success as yet.” He bowed himself out of the room.
“Dave, old pal,” said Jarvis, “don’t move, don’t speak to me. Don’t wake me up. I’m ’aving such a beautiful dream.”
CHAPTER XV
TRAPPED
The day following his locating of the mother-lode, Pant worked feverishly. Hardly four hours had passed when he found himself digging away the heart of the snowbank that blocked the entrance to his cave and melting it that he might wash the pans of rich gold that were now being thawed from the cavity beneath the one-time river falls.