“Pomp,” I said, after a time, “do you think we could get loose and run back home?”
The boy looked at me with his face screwed up.
“Pomp done know,” he said.
“Could you get the knots undone?”
“Pomp ’fraid try. Come and hit um. Going to kill us, Mass’ George?”
“Oh, no; I don’t think there’s any fear of that.”
“Then why they tie us up?”
“Don’t talk so loud. It makes them look round.”
“Look dah!”
“What at?”