"
Sir John nodded gravely.
"I congratulate you," he said; "you have done wonderfully well. It
is satisfactory in one way, in that it shows that, if a gentleman
chooses to go into these commercial affairs, he can do as well as
the bourgeoisie. It leads one to believe that English gentlemen are
not degenerating so rapidly as I am told the evening Radical
newspapers demonstrate for the trifling consideration of one
halfpenny. But"--he paused with an expressive gesture of the hand--
"I should have preferred that this interesting truth had been proved
by the son of some one else."
"I think," replied Jack, "that our speculation hardly comes under
the category of commerce. It was not money that was at risk, but
our own lives."
Sir John's eyes hardened.
"Adventure," he suggested rather indistinctly, "travel and
adventure. There is a class of men one meets frequently who do a
little exploring and a great deal of talking. Faute de mieux, they
do not hesitate to interest one in the special pill to which they
resort when indisposed, and they are not above advertising a soap.
You are not going to write a book, I trust?"
"No. It would hardly serve our purpose to write a book."
"In what way?" inquired Sir John.
"Our purpose is to conceal the whereabouts of the Simiacine
Plateau.
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