"And he must have been awful hungry, in the bargain, for he was tearing at our loaf of bread when I caught up with him," said Frank, causing the other to be seated, after which he removed his clutch.
The boy had a small, weazened face. He looked frightened as he crouched there, his eyes turning from one of his captors to another. There was also something of pleading in his gaze that touched Bluff.
"Look here, Jed, we ain't going to hurt you. Why didn't you come straight into camp and tell us, if you were hungry? Think we would give you over to the tender mercies of that red-faced farmer, eh? That ain't our way. Supper's just ready, and we invite you to stay and share it, eh, fellows?" he said heartily.
"Them's my sentiments," declared Jerry, with more emphasis than grammar.
"Of course he's quite welcome. After he's had enough to eat he can tell us his story, and we'll try and advise him whether to go back home or stay away," said Frank kindly.
"Ain't got no home. Wouldn't run away if I did. Looky here what he done to me," and eagerly the little fellow threw himself out of the ragged cotton shirt he was wearing.
"Wow! That's fierce!" cried Jerry as he saw the red welts on the bare back of the fugitive bound boy.
"It's an outrage, and the big brute should be made to answer for it in a law court. No matter if this boy is bound out to him, the law will protect him. You know that, Jerry. Your father is a lawyer, too," observed Frank, quite as filled with horror as his chum, though not as demonstrative.
"And I'm going to put it up to him. Dad will stand back of this poor chap, and see he has his rights. He must be taken away from old Dobson and put in the care of a decent farmer, who will treat him white," continued Jerry, waxing enthusiastic over the situation.
The boy sprang over to him, and his whole expression was one of gratitude.