“Nobody.  I just guessed at it.”

“Wal, what be you goin’ to do with him, now you got him?”

“I’m going to take him back to his master and save him ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars!” repeated Godfrey.  “Is that what he’s goin’ to give to get him back?  Now, Dave,” and here Godfrey pulled out the hunting-knife which he always carried in a sheath attached to his bullet-pouch, and cut down the switch he had selected, “you jest take that thar pinter dog back whar you got him an’ tie him up thar; you hear me?”

“I do, but I’ll hold fast to the dog.  You and Dan have swindled Don out of enough money already; and now I’ll tell you what’s a fact——­”

David did not finish the sentence.  He saw his father dash his hat upon the ground, and knowing what was coming, he faced about and took to his heels.

CHAPTER XIV.

SOME DISCOVERIES.

David would have been glad to reason with his father, but he had not been allowed the opportunity, and now it was too late to find one.  His first thought was of the pointer.  Giving the animal a hasty kick, to start him on his way home, David sought to save himself by flight, although he had little hope of success.  Everybody said he was a swift runner for a boy of his age, and he did his best now, but fast as he went, Godfrey gained at every step.  David heard his heavy footfalls growing louder and more distinct, and once or twice he lost all heart, and was on the point of stopping and surrendering at discretion.  But he knew that the beating he would receive would be a most severe one, and he was sure he did not deserve it, and that his father had no business to give it to him.  This thought lent him wings, and a few more jumps brought him to the bayou.

“I’ve got you now!” cried Godfrey, and David heard the switch whistle through the air, as his pursuer made an effort to reach him with it.

Godfrey thought the bayou would offer an effectual check to David’s flight, but the boy himself looked upon it as his only means of escape.  He ran straight to the bank, which at this point arose almost perpendicularly from the water to the height of at least twenty feet, and just as Godfrey was stretching forth his hand to seize him by the collar, he disappeared.  His pursuer tried to stop himself, but so rapid was his flight that he made one or two involuntary steps, and it was only by catching hold of a friendly bush that he saved himself from following David over the bluff.

“Dog-gone my buttons!” thought Godfrey, gazing in astonishment at the bubbles on the surface of the water, which marked the spot where David had gone down.  “Who’d a thought he would a jumped into the Bayou sooner nor take a leetle trouncin’?  He’s gettin’ to be a powerful bad boy, Dave is, an’ I had oughter be to hum every day to keep him straight.  Come back here!” he shouted, as the fugitive’s head suddenly bobbed up out of the water.  “If you’ll ketch the pinter fur me an’ promise to say nothin’ to nobody, I’ll let you off this time.”