Buck Hardy turned abruptly and swung off into the woods. Ted returned slowly to the fire, where, with a very serious face, he announced to Hubert the fact of their captivity. The younger boy's grip on his lachrymal ducts was never firm and the tears now ran down his cheeks in a steady stream as he sat on the grass by silent Ted.
"I want to go home," he wailed.
"I think dat's a shame," said July, promptly taking the side of the boys.
"Don't cry, Hu," said Ted. "It will come out all right. We'll stay a while, and then if they don't let us go, we'll run away and go anyhow."
"Maybe I kin help you git off," proposed July, standing in front of the seated boys, his black face full of sympathy. "If I kin, I will. But you mustn't tell dem white mens on me."
The half-witted Billy now appeared from the direction of the boat-landing, and, seeing Hubert's tears, he seemed to be much concerned. He had taken a fancy to Hubert. Dropping into a seat by the grieving boy, he put a hand on his knee and asked indignantly:
"Who been whippin' you?"
"Nobody. It isn't that."
"Well, don't cry. If you don't cry, maybe I'll take you to see son."
"You haven't a son!" said Hubert, smiling through his tears.