“Aw,” muttered Master Pinkney, but was otherwise dumb.
“All right,” Neale went on cheerfully. “We are getting on. And where did you go next?”
“Why, we went right on,” said Margy. “And we put the nuts we found in a bag that daddy carried. He said maybe we’d get enough to sell some.”
“But I want them to eat!” cried Carrie, who was evidently a child with an appetite not easily appeased.
“How long was it before your father climbed the tree?” was Neale’s next question.
“Pretty soon after we got into the real woods,” said Margy eagerly. “There was a fence there, for Daddy got a pole from it and knocked off some of the lowest burrs. Then he climbed up. And a branch broke and—and—Oh! Oh! I know he must be dreadfully hurt, for he wouldn’t speak to us after he fell.”
“Come on!” exclaimed Neale, starting off in a hurry. “I know just where that old fence is. All we’ve got to do is to find this end of it and then follow it up until we come to the place.”
“The poor man!” whispered Ruth to Luke, as the party set off in the wake of Neale O’Neil and Agnes.
But Agnes said to Neale, in a very broken voice:
“Oh, Neale! Suppose he is dead? What ever shall we do?”