"What further shall you do to find him?" asked the Goodwife.
"See if we cannot force the Indians to confess, for the first thing," answered her husband.
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His wife sighed. "I fear no hope lieth in that direction," she said. "Their faces were like the granite of the hills."
"What of the gun, Father?" asked Daniel. "Didst thou find it?"
"Nay," answered his father. "They had it not, and that causes me to think they have passed it as well as the boy on to others of their tribe. There is naught to be done now but wait until after Thanksgiving Day."
"'T will be but a sad holiday," said the Goodwife. "Though he is but a blackamoor, the lad hath found a place in my heart, and I grieve that evil hath befallen him."
"When I saw thee come out from behind the cow-shed I thought thou hadst a burden," said Daniel. "I thought it was Zeb—wounded, or mayhap dead."
"Aye," answered the Goodman. "I did carry a burden and had like to forgot it. I dropped it by the door of the cow-shed. Go thou and bring it in."