“He were so hungry.” Sob, sob. “Who?”
“Samson.”
“Who’s Samson?”
“My—y—lit—tle—brother.”
“Then you took our things?” said Mark. “He—he—kept on crying.”
“You had the damper—”
“And the potatoes—”
“And the bacon—”
“You didn’t—didn’t care for it,” sobbed Loo. “Did you take the rabbit-skin?” said Mark. “Yes—es.”
“But Samson didn’t eat that; did he?”