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Updated: June 24, 2025
The pursuit of gold, however engrossing it may be, does not prevent men from desiring to lie still in the morning, or abate one jot of the misery of their condition when they are rudely roused by early comrades, and told that "it's time to get up." Larry O'Neil, Tom Collins, and Maxton groaned, on receiving this information from Ned, turned, and made as if they meant to go to sleep.
"So am I," said Maxton, rolling himself in a blanket, and pillowing his head on a saddle, without more ado. In a few minutes the camp was as silent as it had previously been noisy.
"I say, have you heard the latest?" cried Maxton, bursting into the reading-room just before preparation, regardless alike of the presence of Lucas and the rule relating to silence. "What about?" asked several voices. "Why, about Noaks!" "No." "Well, then, he's run away!"
"We shall encamp here for the night, comrades," said he, dismounting; "here is water and food for our nags, a fine piece of greensward to spread our blankets on, and a thick-leaved oak to keep the dew off us. Now, Maxton, you are an old campaigner, let us see how soon you'll have a fire blazing."
"Yes; in one of the stories called 'The Gold Bug. Where is the book?" "I lent it to Maxton, but I should think he's finished it by this time. I'll go and see." "All right," said Diggory, pocketing the slip of paper; "you get it, and then I can show you what I mean. Come on, Jack; let's go out."
"That may be quite true," observed Maxton, "seeing that it is possible you may have never been jolly or enthusiastic at all; but even taking your words as you mean them to be understood, they only tend to enforce what I have said, for, you know, the exception proves the rule." "Bah! you sophisticator," ejaculated Tom, again inspecting the contents of the pot.
Carton turned out a capital fellow; Rathson, the small, sandy-haired boy mentioned in the previous chapter, and who generally went by the name of "Rats," took a great fancy to Jack; while Maxton repeated his assertion that young Trevanock was "the right sort," and as a further mark of his favour presented the new-comer with a moleskin of his own curing, which looked very nice, but, as "Rats" put it, "smelt rather fruity."
Maxton, having heard of better diggings elsewhere, and not caring for the society of our adventurers when Ned and Tom were absent, had bid them good-bye, and gone off with his pick and shovel on his shoulder, and his prospecting-pan in his hand, no one knew whither.
"Now, then, get up, and don't be lazy," cried the latter, as he stepped out, dragging all the blankets off the trio as he took his departure, an act which disclosed the fact that trousers and flannel shirts were the sleeping garments of Maxton and Tom, and that Larry had gone to bed in his boots.
"Av coorse it must," interrupted Larry, who at that moment was luxuriating in the first rich, voluminous puffs of a newly-filled pipe "av coorse it must, if it's always like this." "Ay," continued Maxton, "but that's what I was just going to remark upon it's not always like this.
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