“I fancied I saw a black making signs to him yesterday, sir,” said German.
“Then why did you not speak?” cried the captain, angrily.
“Wasn’t sure, sir,” replied German, sulkily.
“Ugh! you stupid old Sourkrout!” muttered Tim.
The door was closed with a sharp bang, bars and barriers put up, chests pushed against it, and with sinking hearts the boys prepared for the night’s hard toil, feeling that one of the bravest among them had gone.
Chapter Twenty Four.
“How many did you bring down?”
“I won’t believe it,” whispered Rifle, angrily. “Father always doubted him. Poor old Shanter has been speared.”