"Yes, sir, pretty well. He would have been the better of a longer rest,
but he was quite fit to travel, sir."
Captain Bunting, who, during this colloquy, had been standing with his
legs apart, and his eyes glaring at the waiter, as if he had been mad,
gave a prolonged whistle, but made no further remark. At this moment
Larry, who had been conversing with one of the under-waiters, came
rushing in with a look of desperation on his countenance.
"Would ye belave it," he cried, throwing himself down on a splendid
crimson sofa, that seemed very much out of keeping with the dress of the
rough miners whom it was meant to accommodate--"would ye belave it,
they're gone!"
"Who are gone, and where to!" inquired Ned.
"Kate an'--an' the caffin. Off to San Francisco, be all that's onlucky;
an' only wint little more nor an hour ago."
The three friends looked at each other.
"Waiter," said Captain Bunting, in a solemn voice, "bear-chops for
three, pipes and baccy for six, an' a brandy-smash for one; an', d'ye
hear, let it be stiff!"
"Yes, sir."
A loud laugh from Ned and Larry relieved their over-excited and pent-up
feelings; and both agreed that, under the circumstances, the captain's
order was the best that could be given at that stage of their
perplexities. Having ascertained that there was not another steamer to
San Francisco for a week, they resolved to forget their anxieties as
much as possible, and enjoy themselves in the great city of Sacramento
during the next few days; while they instituted inquiries as to what had
become of their comrade, Bill Jones, who, they concluded, must still be
in the city, as they had not met him on the way down.