“Hello! Mr. Hunter,” he cried, “here’s a discovery.”
“What is it?” inquired Mr. Hunter, coming to the wagon, Will pressing close to his side.
Amid a mass of straw was a form, which kicked vigorously as the man endeavored to drag it from the wagon.
“A stowaway!” cried the man.
“True enough,” replied Mr. Hunter. “Pull him out, and let us have a look at him.”
“Let me go! Let me go! I tell you I haven’t done anything wrong!” cried a voice that fell familiarly on Will’s startled ear.
The man drew its possessor out of the wagon, and wheeled him around to the camp-fire.
Mr. Hunter stared amusedly at the form thus revealed.
An amazed ejaculation swept Will Bertram’s lips as he recognized him.
“Why, its Tom Dalton!” he cried, breathlessly.