Barney and Pomp stood looking at each other and feeling a bit crestfallen.
“Begorra, I can see it if yez kin, naygur,” exclaimed Barney.
“G’long, yo’ fool I’ishman. I has’n seen it m’se’f yet.”
“You fellows look out for things until I come back,” shouted Frank, starting toward the forest.
Barney grabbed up his rifle.
“Hould on a bit, Misther Frank,” he cried. “It ain’t a bit safe fer yez to go off out there alone.”
“Jes’ yo’ wait dar, I’ish, I’se gwine wid Marse Frank m’se’f.”
“No, yez won’t.”
“Yo’ jes’ bet I will.”
The two zealous servitors were in imminent danger of a collision. But Frank turned and said peremptorily: