"We'll go directly home. Our
folks will wonder what has become of us."
"Are these your bags?"
"No, sir," replied Bob, promptly. "One doesn't usually carry meal
bags to bring home 'coons in."
"I am aware of that fact," said the General, "but couldn't they be
used to carry quails in? These bags have you father's name on them,
and you had better come and get them."
These words were uttered in a tone of command, and Bob thought it
best to obey. He snatched up the bags, and with Lester by his side
made his way down the lane with all possible haste. When they were
safe in the road, Bob drew a long breath and remarked:
"That's the end of that scrape."
"I don't see it," returned Lester. "It is only the beginning of it.
Everybody in the settlement will know it before night."
"Who cares if they do?" cried Bob, who began to feel like himself,
now that he was on solid ground once more. "They can't prove that
we went there to steal the quails, and we'll not confess it."
"No, sir," replied Lester, emphatically. "You're a sharp one, Bob, to
make up such a plausible story on the spur of the moment, but I know
the General did not believe a word of it."
"So do I, but what's the odds? Let's see him prove that I didn't tell
him the truth.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259