Several old men seemed to be the only ones about the place, all of the others having hastened to obey the signal when McGee led off.
"And all this can be changed, if only he will accept the generous offer I am bearing him," said Phil to himself, as he looked around at the evidences of squalor and poverty. "Inside of six months this place could have a thrifty look; the women would own decent dresses, the children shoes for their feet if they wanted them; yes, and even a schoolhouse would stand right in the middle of the village, with a teacher ready to show these poor things how to read and write, if nothing more. Oh! don't I hope he acts sensible, and accepts! But I'm more afraid than I'd like Larry to know. I can see a lurking look in McGee's eyes that frightens me, even while I'm smiling so bravely."
He had just finished saying this to himself when he saw Tony leading a woman toward them. There was something akin to pride in the action of the swamp boy.
"It's his mother, Larry," said Phil, instantly; "don't you remember that he told us long ago she used to teach school down in Pensacola, or somewhere else?"
"Well, you'd hardly believe it now," muttered Larry; for the woman was very much like the others of the squatter village, in that her dress was homely.
But Phil noticed that her hair was neatly arranged; and despite her coarse attire there was a certain air of refinement about her.
Tony had evidently managed to give her an inkling, not only as to the identity of his new friends, but how they had been so good to him. She was smiling as she advanced, even though Phil could also see a shadow of anxiety on her face.
"She ought to know the McGee, if anybody does," he thought. "And she is afraid he'll be mean toward us, and think only of striking a blow at the man he has come to hate without any real cause."
It was not a pleasant thought, and Phil tried hard to get it out of his mind by advancing to meet Tony and his mother. McGee, as if convinced that escape was utterly impossible, did not seem to pay much attention to his prisoners, once he had brought them safely to the village. He was talking to the two old men, and probably telling them just who Phil was, for they could be seen scowling as they glanced toward the boy.
"This is him, mother," said Tony, pointing to Phil, whose hand he hastened to grip.