Here, Massa, here! cried the black, at the same time seizing Walter by the coat.
This soon brought the whole party to the spot where the negro held Walter. Webb saw at once that his supposed enemy was but the stripling of a boy, and a white boy at that.
Who is it with you? pleasantly asked Webb.
No one; Walter replied in a mild and mannerly way.
No one? said Webb, that can’t be, boy, you are fifty miles from any habitation, you are a stool pigeon for the Indians!
Stool pigeon, sir? I don’t know what stool pigeon is, I have not seen any Indians.
Are you alone?
Yes.
Where is your father?
I haven’t got any; he was drowned yesterday in the Callicoon.