I'm dead sure o' that, though I didn't see the first thing.

It's my guess the lad dived, an' never come up agin 'till he was out there in them shadows." "But them's the Jerseys over yonder; if he was a spy he'd be headin' the other way." "It's little he'd think of the way with the gang of us yelpin' at his heels.

Besides, there's plenty of his kind over in those Jerseys who'd take good care of the likes of him.

Was ye ever foragin' over there, lad ?" The other grunted, and the speaker went on steadily.
"They take pot shots at ye from every bit o' woods, or stone wall.

They're sure devils for that kind o' skirmishin' work.