pon his cousin with, "I say, why did you stop short when we
were talking to the doctor?"

Dean turned rather red.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What do I mean? You know."

"I know?"

"Yes; you were going to say that father was dreadfully cross all the
time. Come, confess."

"Well," said Dean hesitating, "I am afraid I did think something of the
kind."

"Afraid! Why, you did, you beggar, and then packed it all on to my
shoulders. Hullo, here comes Mann--man--handy man--Daniel Mann--Dan
Mann. What a rum name! Hasn't been very handy yet, though."

"I say, don't! You will have him hear what you say."

"I don't care. Let him! I wasn't saying any harm about him, poor chap.
He's coming to us--wants to say something, I suppose."

The conversation was taking place just outside the so-called hotel,
though the boys had dubbed it the tin tabernacle--a rough, hastily-built
house that had been fitted up by an enterprising trader, where the party
found temporary accommodation.

"Well, Daniel? Feel better?"

"Dan, please, sir. My mates never put any `yel' at the end of my name."

"That isn't the end," said Mark sharply. "That's the middle. Well, do
you feel better?"

"Feel better, sir?" said the man, whose miserably pallid face was
overspread for the moment by a warm glow, while the tears of gratitude
stood in his eyes. "Why, every morning since we came up I have seemed
to be coming to life again."

"Well, don't cry about it," said Mark shortly.

"Oh, that's nothing, sir," said the man, using the back of both fists to
brush away the signs of his emotion. "That's only being so weak, sir.
Don't you take any notice of that. You see, I have been going backwards
and getting quite like a kid again. And oh, gentlemen, it was a lucky
day for me when I run against you two."

"Stop!" cried Mark angrily. "This is the third time you have begun
talking to us like this, and we won't stand it; will we, Dean?"

"No, that we won't," cried his cousin. "Here, Daniel--Dan, I mean--"

"Thank you, sir. That's better."

"You wait a bit. I had not finished," continued Mark. "If ever you say
another word to us, whether we are together or whether we are alone,
about being grateful, and that sort of thing, I shall say you are a
canting humbug--at least, my cousin will; I shouldn't like to be so
harsh."

Dean dug his elbow into his cousin's ribs at this.

"And we don't want to think that of you," continued Mar