“No matter; money is all right; we can afford to lose a pair of stockin’s or two,” was Hank’s consolatory remark.
He failed, however, to impress this cheerful view of the matter upon Jack, who, bareheaded, barefoot, uncertain that he should ever see his money again, felt anything but happy over the success of his rash attempt.
Hearing a low whistle not far off, Hank said, “That’s them!” and whistled in response. “One on ’em, anyhow,” as a single figure was seen approaching. “Tug?”
“Hullo!” said Tug. “Where’s Cub?”
“Ain’t he with you?” said Hank. “I told ye to keep together!”
“I thought we’d better scatter, when the old man and the Dinks feller come after us; one on ’em—I don’t know which ’twas—chased me ’bout a quarter of a mile.”
“Where are my shoes?” said Jack.
“Your shoes?” echoed Tug.
“Yes! and my hat?”
“Your hat?”