“Sobrinini!” cried Bomba.
CHAPTER XXV
THE RESCUE OF SOBRININI
With Bomba, to think was to act.
In a moment he had made his way out on the bough to a point where the foliage thinned out and there was a chance of his being seen.
“Sobrinini! Sobrinini!” he shouted at the top of his voice.
At the call, the old crone ceased paddling for a moment and turned her haggard face in the direction of the tree.
“Who calls?” she cried shrilly. “Who is it that calls Sobrinini?”
“It is Bomba!” shouted the lad, at the same time shaking the bough of the tree violently to attract her attention.
She caught the movement of the foliage, and, peering closely, saw the outline of Bomba’s face and form.
“Bartow!” she cried. “Or is it Bartow’s ghost? You have come to see Sobrinini die.”