Читать книгу Prince Dusty. A Story of the Oil Regions онлайн

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The child opened his eyes and smiled, as, by the moonlight, now flooding the place, he saw who was bending over him.

“Sh-h-h, Honey,” whispered Uncle Phin, with warning finger uplifted; “git up quiet like a fiel mouse an come erlong wif me. Sh-h-h!”

Then the old man and the child stole softly away, the former not forgetting to carry with him the supply of food provided by Mr. Dustin. As quietly as two shadows they moved across the open space between the house and the barn.

Not until they were safe in his particular corner of the hay-mow did Uncle Phin venture to speak aloud. Here he drew a long breath of satisfaction, for in this place they could talk freely and without danger of being overheard.

First he made Arthur drink all that he could from the bowl of milk and eat heartily of the bread and cakes that Mr. Dustin had left for him. After eating the food, of which he stood so greatly in need, and which the old man assured him had been left by one “ob de good Lawd’s own rabens,” Arthur said: