"He's making a basket," cried King, greatly interested. "Let's go and look at him."
They trotted over to the man, and King said, politely, "Is that a basket you're making, sir?"
"Yes," came the answer in a gruff voice, and when the man looked up at them, they saw he was a strange-looking person indeed. His complexion was dark, his coarse black hair rather long, and his black eyes had a shrewd expression, but were without kindliness. "What do you want?" he said, still in his gruff voice.
"We don't want anything p'ticular," said Marjorie, who did not wish to be intrusive; "we did want a drink of water out of the brook, but we had nothing to drink from, and then we saw you building a basket, and we just came over to look at you. You don't mind, do you?"
"No, I don't mind," and the man's voice was a little less gruff as he looked at Marjorie's pretty smiling face. Then he gave her another look, somewhat more scrutinizing, and then he looked again at King. "You want a drink of water, do you?" and the look of interest in his round black eyes seemed to become intensified. "Well, I'll tell you what to do; you go right straight along that little path through the grass, and after a few steps, you'll find some people, and they'll give you a drink of water with pleasure, and a nice cup to drink it out of."
"Is it far?" asked Marjorie, for she couldn't see any signs of habitation, and did not wish to delay too long.
"No; 'tain't a dozen steps. Just behind that clump of trees yonder; you can't miss it."
"A farmhouse, I suppose," said King.
"Well, not just exactly a farmhouse," said the man, "but you go on, you youngsters, and whoever you see when you get there, tell 'em Jim sent you."
"We will; and thank you, Jim," said Marjorie, suddenly remembering her manners.