He did not wait to be answered, but sighed deeply, and walked slowly away.
“Don’t he know?” whispered Samson.
Fred shook his head, and stood gazing after his father till his follower touched his sleeve.
“Aren’t you going to tell him, Master Fred?”
“I was wondering whether I ought.”
“So was I, sir; and you oughtn’t.”
“You think that?”
“Yes, sir. If you tell him, he’ll feel it’s his duty to send in search of them, and make ’em prisoners.”
“Yes,” said Fred, thoughtfully.
“And that’s just what we want done, of course, Master Fred; only they ought to be our prisoners, and we want to do just what we like about ’em, not be enterfered with—eh?”