No sooner was a meal of cold chop and tea over than Purdy declared his intention of being present at a meeting of malcontent diggers.

Nor would he even wait to wash himself clean of mud.
His friend reluctantly agreed to lend him an arm.

But he could not refrain from taking the lad to task for getting entangled in the political imbroglio.

"When, as you know, it's just a kind of sport to you." Purdy sulked for a few paces, then burst out: "If only you weren't so damned detached, Dick Mahony!" "You're restless, and want excitement, my boy--that's the root of the trouble." "Well, I'm jiggered! If ever I knew a restless mortal, it's yourself." The two men picked their steps across the Flat and up the opposite hillside, young Purdy Smith limping and leaning heavy, his lame foot thrust into an old slipper.

He was at all times hail-fellow-well-met with the world.