"That man?" he whispered, looking up doubtfully as he pointed in the direction of the door into which Strong had disappeared.
"That's Uncle Silas," said Gordon, with smiling amusement.
Socky turned and spat upon the ground.
Slowly he walked away, scuffing his feet. Sue followed with a look of dejection. They went behind the camp and found the big potato-hole and crawled into it. The bottom was covered with dry leaves. They sat down, but neither spoke. Socky leaned forward, his chin upon his hands.
"Do you like Uncle Silas?" Sue whispered.
For a moment Socky did not change his attitude or make any reply.
"I wouldn't give him no twenty-five cents," Sue added.
"Don't speak to me," Socky answered, with a quick movement of his knee.
It was a time of sad discovery—that pathetic day when the first castle of childhood falls upon its builder.
"I'm going home," said Sue.