“I can,” said Norman.
“So can we,” cried Rifle. “I don’t believe old Shanter ever could steal.”
“Well done, boys, for your belief in savage nature,” cried Uncle Jack.—“No, Ned, you are wrong. I believe that the poor fellow is honest as the day.”
“Thank you, uncle,” whispered Tim.
“Well,” said the captain, “we shall see. But I think I have let the poor fellow off very easily. I came out to-night meaning to give him a tremendous horse-whipping, but out of weakness and consideration for you boys’ feelings, I’ve let him off with one cut.”
“Enough too,” said Uncle Jack, “for it was big enough for a dozen.”
“Well, it was a tidy one,” said the captain, laughing. “There, come back to the house. But no more black pets, boys. If you want to make companions, try the horses.”
“And perhaps they’d run away with one.”
“Or throw us.”
“Or kick us.”