Explore "Caoutchouc" by John Arthur Barry on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
All that night we lay at anchor. And once, awaking, I saw that Mowbray had risen, lit the lamp, and was lying in his bunk conning over the letter again. Evidently he was loth to let the matter rest; and I was not surprised when at breakfast time he all at once broke out with: "There's something there worth having, I shouldn't wonder. What it is I can't tell from the letter. It may be gold; but I doubt it. 'Pure and of good weight.' Hang it! It might be coal, or iron, or anything, by the way he talks about it. And yet he says it's a fortune! Still, you know, a German's idea of a fortune and ours differ considerably. 'Three years' treasure' 's been haunting my rest the whole night. What the deuce can it be?"
-"Let's go and see," said Paxton. "Run back to Newcastle. I know a decent sort of fellow there who'll perhaps let us have some tucker if we bring him into the spec. How much money do we want, Mowbray?"