They would be obliged to
make two or three trips to the cabin in order to secure them all, and
each time they would run the risk of being discovered by the hounds.
While the two friends were talking these matters over, they were
walking slowly toward the place where they had left their horses.
Having mounted, they started for home again, and the very first
person they saw when they rode out of the woods into the road was
David Evans, who had just been up to the shop to restore the pointer
to his owner.
"There he is!" said Bob, in a low whisper. "He is dressed up in his
best, too."
"Best!" sneered Lester. "Why, I wouldn't be seen at work in the
fields in such clothes as those!"
"Nor in any other, I guess. They are the best he can afford," said
Bob, who had some soft spots in his heart, if he was a bad boy, "and
I don't believe in making fun of him."
"You believe in cheating him out of a nice little sum of money
though, if you can," retorted Lester.
"No, I don't. I am working to keep him from cheating _me_ out of it.
If he will keep his place among the niggers, where fellows of his
stamp belong, I'll be the last one to say or do anything against him;
but when he tries to shove himself up among white folks, and swindle
me out of a new shot-gun and get appointed mail carrier over my head,
it's something I won't stand.
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