I'm gittin' my wages fer the diggin', ain't I?
Then it's to me intrust to kape on diggin'! Sure, me tongue niver wagged me belly outy a grub-stake yit, young feller! I'm with ye on this, an' thot's me true word I'm givin' ye." The professor hurried off to find Fred and urge him to let Murphy advise them upon the exact sites of their mines.

Murphy hung his hammer up in the forked branches of a young oak, and went off to his dinner.

Arriving there, he straightway discovered that Mike, besides frying bacon and making a pot of muddy coffee and stirring up a bannock, had been engaged also in what passed with him for thinking.
"Them fellers don't know nothin' about minin'," he began when he had poured himself a cup of coffee and turned the pot with the handle toward Murphy.

"They's no gold there, where we're diggin', I know there's no gold! They's no sign of gold.

They can dig a hunnerd feet down, an' they won't find no gold! Why, in Minnesota, that time--" "A-ah, now, le's have none av Minnesota," Murphy broke in upon Mike's gobbling--no other word expresses Mike's manner of speech, or comes anywhere near to giving any idea of his mushy mouthing of words.