"Look! look!" shrieked Toglet.
And he pointed with his long finger.
"It's the boy, as I'm a sinner!" burst out Martin.
"It's his ghost! Oh, why did I——"
"Shut up! It's the boy, I tell you! He must have escaped in some miraculous manner. See, his forehead is bound up," went on Martin.
"But how could he escape?" asked Toglet, faintly.
"That is more than I can answer. But there he is, and all our work was for nothing," growled Martin.
"Never mind; we've got the two hundred," began his younger companion.
"But we haven't the five hundred additional," grumbled Martin. "Let us go after him."
Martin strode forward, and shaking in every limb, Toglet followed.