Not once, however, did he refer to the business that had brought himself and Mr. Bogle into the wilderness.
“Isn’t this a queer time of the year to go prospecting?” inquired Jerry, during a lapse in the conversation. “I thought summer was the right season.”
Mr. Raikes’ blue eyes expressed mild surprise, as he turned to the speaker.
“This is just the time for our line of business,” he replied; and if he ever spoke the truth in his life, he spoke it then.
“We’ll make out all right if the weather holds good,” he added, hastily. “I’m a little afraid there’s a snow squall coming, though. The air just feels like it. It’s not nearly so cold as when I started.”
“That’s so,” exclaimed Hamp. “I can feel it getting warmer.”
“You’d think it was downright hot if you were in my place,” declared Jerry. “I’m actually sweating.”
“That’s the best thing for you,” said Mr. Raikes, “only don’t take cold after it. Well, I must be off. You boys want to sleep, and I suppose Joe is getting anxious about me. Of course, we will see each other again, since we are such near neighbors?”
Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Raikes shouldered his gun and strode down the ravine. The boys shouted good-by after him, and watched until he disappeared in the gloom.
“Not a bad sort of a fellow,” commented Brick.