“Yes; I saw one too.”
“I seed three or four dodging in and out among the trees,” said Sam.
Rifle ran on to join his father.
“Stop a moment, Master Raffle,” cried Sam, imploringly. “Oh, he’s gone! Go on too, Master ’Temus, and say that I didn’t mean it. The captain would be so put out if I found fault, after promising to stand by him through thick and thin.”
“Then will the land grow potatoes?” said Tim mischievously.
“If I don’t make it grow some as is twice as big as those at home, I’m a Dutchman. Oh dear! Here he comes.”
For the captain had turned his horse’s head and returned.
“Did you both see blacks?” he said anxiously.
“Yes, both of us, uncle, going from tree to tree along there toward the river.”
“How many did you see, Tim?”