"Bless you! The dear good God himself bless you! But, oh, boy, go away,
go away!" murmured the man, weakly.
"Go away and leave you here alone, perhaps to die? And then have to face
my parents and Banty and The Eena, and--and England again and tell what
I've done? Not I!" cried the boy, indignantly. "Look at this shack, the
state it's in; look at you. How did you come to be here alone?"
"I had a pardner, but he left me, just skinned out, when he suspected
what I had," said the man, hopelessly. It was then that Con burst forth
in that quick flashing English temper that was always aroused at the
sight of injustice, of unmanliness, or of underhand dealings. He was
so furious that he took his temper out in cleaning up the shack, and
cooking some soft foods for the patient, and every time the wretched man
begged him to go away he got so indignant and abusive that the sick one
finally laughed outright, thereby lifting them both out of the depths of
grey despair.
"That's the way, 'Snooks,'" commented Con. (He had nicknamed his
shack-mate "Snooks.
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