Because we're your friends, you know." "Am I going to see my mother and father ?" "You bet.

Away down there is a big camp where there are lots of boys and you're going to stay there till they come and get you." "They sent me to the spring to get water and I took my whistle so I could soak it in the water, because that makes it go good.

I made it myself, that whistle." Tom, his clothes torn, his face and hands bleeding from scratches, sat upon the edge of a big rock with the little fellow drawn tight against him.
"And when you whistled we came and got you, hey?
That's the kind of fellows we are.

And I bet I know how that nice sweater got frayed, too.
A little bird did that." "I left it hanging on a tree near the spring when they sent me to get water," the boy said, "and I left it there all night." He poked his finger in the frayed place as if he were proud of it.
"And I'll show you who did it," Tom said; "because that little thief is right down there in that big camp.

And I'll show you the turtle you carved your initials on too.