seized him by the
neck, and sent him head over heels into his own tent, which stood behind
him.

"Serves him right!" cried one of the crowd, who appeared to be delighted
with the prospect of a row.

"Hear, hear!" echoed the rest approvingly.

"Can it be _you_, Tommy?" cried Bax, grasping the boy by both arms, and
stooping to gaze into his face.

"Found you at last!" shouted Tommy, with his eyes full and his face
flushed by conflicting emotions.

"Come into the tent," cried Bax, hastening away and dragging his friend
after him.

Tommy did not know whether to laugh or cry. His breast was still
heaving with recent indignation, and his heart was bursting with present
joy; so he gave utterance to a wild hysterical cheer, and disappeared
behind the folds of his friend's tent, amid the cheers and laughter of
the miners, who thereafter dispersed quietly to their several places of
abode.

"Tommy," said Bax, placing the boy directly in front of him, on a pile
of rough coats and blankets, and staring earnestly into his face, "I
don't believe it's you! I'm dreaming, that's what I am, so the sooner
you pinch me out of this state the better."

It were vain to attempt to give the broken and disjointed converse that
here took place between the two friends. After a time they became more
rational and less spasmodic in their talk, and Tommy at last
condescended to explain the way in which he had managed to get there.

"But before I begin," said he, "tell me who's your friend?"

He turned as he spoke to Harry, who, seated on a provision cask, with a
pleasant smile on his handsome face and a black pipe in his mouth, had
been enjoying the scene immensely.

"Ah! true, I forgot; this is my mate, Harry Benton, an old
school-fellow. You'll know more of him and like him better in course of
time."

"I hope he will," said Harry, extending his hand, which Tommy grasped
and shook warmly, "and I hope to become better acquainted with you,
Tommy, though in truth you are no stranger to me, for many a night has
Bax entertained me in this tent with accounts of your doings and his
own, both by land and sea. Now go on, my boy, and explain the mystery
of your sudden appearance here."

"The prime cause of my appearance is the faithlessness of Bax," said
Tommy. "Why did you not write to me?"

When it was explained that Bax had written by a vessel which was
wrecked, the boy was mollified; and when the letter which had just been
written