“His mind wanders, being a prisoner,” I stammered. “He is with the blacks—a prisoner—with my father.”
“What?” cried the doctor.
“He has a fellow-prisoner,” I faltered. “I am not sure—it must be—my father!”
“Mass Joe find um fader all along,” said the black. “Jimmy find um too.”
“Be silent!” cried the doctor. “Do I understand aright, Joe, that your father is a prisoner with the people from whom you have escaped?”
“Yes—I think so—I am not sure—I feel it is so,” I faltered.
“Humph!”
“Have you seen him?”
“No,” I said. “I did not know he was there till I was escaping.”
“Jimmy see um. All rightums. Find Mass Joe fader.”