Frank looked at him strangely.
"Why, no, but the description said they were black, and terrible eyes too."
"It did, eh? Said he had black eyes?" echoed the farmer, with a sigh of relief.
"And his hair was black too, what they had left of it. I know that this must have been the Bill Brockholt spoken of, because I could see that he was rather a squatty fellow, undersized like."
Again the farmer breathed hard, and his eyes seemed to turn upward as if a sigh of thanksgiving welled from the depths of his heart. And seeing this a sudden thought flashed into the mind of the boy.
"He suspected that he knew the fellow—that it was some former hired man who had come back to rob him; and he's glad to find out it wasn't so," was what Frank said to himself, as he followed the farmer into the house.
CHAPTER XVI
DOWN THE RIVER
"Dinner is ready, folks! Please gather around the table!" called Mrs. Baxter, as she rang a big bell vigorously.
Lanky instantly jumped from his chair as though on springs.