“Nobody come. Injum all gone away.”
“How do you know?” I cried, eagerly.
“Pomp done know. Tink um all gone. No shoot arrow now.”
“Wrong, boy,” said Morgan. “They are hatching some fresh scheme, and they’ll be down upon us directly.”
There was a pause.
“And then it will be all over,” muttered Morgan, as he turned towards Pomp, looked at him firmly, and then held out his hand.
“Come here, boy,” he said.
“Wha’ for? Pomp no do nuffum. Can’t do nuffum here.”
“Come and shake hands.”
Pomp laughed and held out his hand, which Morgan took.