"No; because you couldn't help that when you were a little fellow. Now you have grown, and are getting a big one, you ought to think of letting him be an expense to you, and you keep him. That's what I'm going to do as soon as ever I get old enough."

"That's right," said Will, looking at his companion thoughtfully. "I say, is your father going to open a mine down here?"

"I don't know quite for certain," said d.i.c.k; "but I think he's going to try and find something fresh, and work that."

"What--some new metal?"

"I don't know," said d.i.c.k, "and I don't think he quite knows yet. It all depends upon what he can find good enough."

"I wish I could find something very valuable," said Will thoughtfully--"something that I could show him; and then he might give me work in it, so that I could be independent."

"Well, let's try and find something good. I'll go with you," said d.i.c.k.

"When?"

"Not now. Oh! I say, I must get back; I am so precious hungry."

It was quite time; but they had not far to go, though when d.i.c.k did enter the room it was to find his father and Arthur half through their meal.

"Three quarters of an hour late, d.i.c.k," said his father. "I waited half an hour for you before I sat down. Where have you been?"

"To look at the sea, father; and up on the cliff to see how the wind blew--how strong, I mean."

"Sit down," said his father rather sternly. "I like punctuality, and would rather know when you are going out."

"Yes, father," said d.i.c.k, "I'll try and remember. I'm very sorry."

Mr Temple did not answer, but raised the newspaper he was reading, and this covered his face.

Evidently Arthur thought it covered his ears as well, for he said rather importantly:--

"I was here punctually to the moment."

"Arthur," said his father quietly, "you had better go on with your breakfast, and not talk so much."

Arthur coloured, and the breakfast was eaten during the rest of the time in silence--a state of affairs of which d.i.c.k took advantage, for the sea air had a wonderful effect upon his food-a.s.similating powers, and his performance on this particular morning made his brother leave off to stare.

"My, d.i.c.k!" he exclaimed at last as that gentleman made an attack upon a second fried sole, one of several brought in by the trawl-boat on the previous night, "I say, how you are eating!"

"Yes," said d.i.c.k, grinning, "I'm a growing boy."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

UNCLE ABRAM COMES AS AN AMBa.s.sADOR, AND GAINS HIS ENDS.

"I wanted to make our expedition," said Mr Temple, "but it is impossible, of course, to-day in the face of such a storm. What are you boys going to do?"

"Read, papa," said Arthur. "It is too rough to go out."

"And you, d.i.c.k?"

"Ask you to lend me your Mackintosh, father. It's too rough to stay in.

The sea's grand."

Arthur had already taken up a book, but he now laid it down.

"I don't think it rains, does it?"

"No; only blows," replied d.i.c.k; "but when you get where the spray comes off the sea, it's like a shower."

"I think we'll all go," said Mr Temple. "I want to test a few minerals first. Afterwards I should like to go down and have a look at the waves."

It was settled that the boys should wait, and Mr Temple at once lit a spirit-lamp from a strong box of apparatus he had brought down; and, taking out a blow-pipe, he spent some little time melting, or calcining, different pieces of ore and stone that he had collected, one special piece being of white-looking mineral that took d.i.c.k's notice a good deal, for it seemed familiar.

"Isn't that the stone you got in the place Will Marion showed to you, father?"

"Yes, my boy," said Mr Temple; "why?"

"Only I thought it was," said d.i.c.k. "Is it valuable?"

"I don't know yet. Perhaps."

"If it is valuable, will it do Will any good?"

"I don't know yet about that either, my inquisitive young friend," said Mr Temple.

"I think it ought if it's any good," said d.i.c.k after a pause, during which he had been watching his father attentively.

"Do you?" said Mr Temple coldly; and he went on calcining a piece of the soft white stone, and then placing it in a mortar to grind it up fine.

This done, he took the powder out and spread it upon a small gla.s.s slab, where he applied a few drops of water to it, and mixed and mixed till he had formed the white powder into a paste that looked like white clay.

"I say, father," said d.i.c.k.

"Yes."

"Will would like to see what you are doing with that stuff. May I tell him?"

"No," said Mr Temple, quietly kneading the white paste in his fingers and then examining it with a powerful lens. "I desire that you say no word about anything that you may see me doing. This is private work that to-day unknown to anyone else may be very valuable. Known to all the world, it might prove to be not very valuable, but absolutely worthless. Wait, my boy, and see."

Waiting was always an unpleasant task for d.i.c.k Temple. Time never ran half fast enough for him, and to have to wait in what he called, after some one whom he had heard make use of the term, a state of mental anxiety, was something hard to be borne.

Arthur calmly took a book, after glancing in the gla.s.s to see if his collar was quite right and his hair properly brushed. He could sit and read in the most placid manner; but d.i.c.k seemed to have quicksilver in his toes and fingers. He could not keep still, but was always on the fret to be doing something.

In his eagerness to help he got into trouble three times with his father, his aid being given invariably at the wrong time, and generally resulting in his knocking over some bottle, disturbing a test, or breaking some delicate piece of apparatus.