the event, Laurence did not deem worthy of
answer.

"And I was waiting for it to come," pursued Hazon. "Say, now, why not
make a trip up country with me?"

"That sounds likely, doesn't it? Didn't I just tell you I was stony
broke?"

"You did. The very reason why I made my proposal."

"Don't see it. If I were to sell out every rag of my scrip now, I
couldn't raise enough to pay my shot towards the outfit. And I couldn't
even render service in kind, for I've had no experience of waggons and
all that sort of thing. So where does it come in?"

"It does come in. You can render service in kind--darned much so. I
don't want you to pay any shot towards the outfit. See here,
Stanninghame, if you go up country with me now, you'll come back a
fairly rich man, or----"

"Or what?"

"You'll never come back at all."

In spite of his normal imperturbability, Laurence was conscious of a
quickening of the pulses. The suggestion of adventure--of an adventure
on a magnificent scale, and with magnificent results if successful, as
conveyed in the other's reply, caused the blood to surge hotly through
his frame. He had been strangely drawn towards this dark, reticent,
solitary individual, beneath whose quiet demeanour lurked such a
suggestion of force and power, who shunned the friendship of all even as
all shunned his, who had been moderately intimate even with none but
himself. This wonderful land--the dim, mysterious recesses of its
interior--what possibilities did it not hold? And in groping into such
possibilities this, above all others, was the comrade he would have
chosen to have at his side. Not that he had forgotten the words of dark
warning spoken by Rainsford and others, but at such he laughed.

"Are you taking it on any?" queried Hazon, after a pause of silence on
the part of both.

"I am. I don't mind telling you, Hazon, that life, so far as I am
concerned, was no great thing before."

"I guessed as much," assented the other, with a nod of the head.

"Quite. Now, I'm broke, stony broke, and it's more than ever a case of
stealing away to hang one's self in a well. I tell you squarely, I'd
walk into the jaws of the devil himself to effect the capture of the
oof-bird."

"Yes? How are your nerves, Stanninghame?"

"Hard--hard as nails now. That's not to say they have been always."

"Quite so. Ever seen a man's head cut off?"

"Two."

"So? Where was that?" said Hazon, ever so faintly surprised at
receiving an af