"All right, go ahead and ask him!" grinned Ned.
"Aw, shucks!" sputtered Jimmie. "You know I can't talk French!"
"Go on, Jimmie, say 'Polly Voo' to him, anyway!" laughed Jack.
"Polly Voo, yourself, if you want to!" answered Jimmie, somewhat sulkily. "I've made a fool of myself once, and that's enough! Besides," he added, "I want to wash this blood and dirt off my ear!"
"That's right, Jimmie, we nearly forgot you!" said Ned. "We ought to be scolded for neglecting you after your brave effort!"
Approaching the old man, who still bemoaned the loss of his property, Ned indicated by signs that they wanted water to bathe the injured boy's bleeding ear. Comprehending at once, the man fetched a basin of water and set it down before them.
"Now, when it comes to the supper, I'll ask him for it myself!" declared Jimmie. "You promised while we were in New York I might do that!"
"Sure as you live!" agreed Jack. "I remember that!"
Filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of his venture in sign language, Jimmie tapped the man's shoulder and then pointed to his own mouth. Describing a circle with his hands, he indicated a plate heaped high, and then patted his stomach. His efforts were effective.
Instantly comprehending, the man smiled and disappeared into his cottage, to return at once with a bowl of stew and loaf of black bread.