On the contrary he drew out a pipe, filled it and lighted it.

Then he threw himself down on the ground, puffing slowly.
"From the fact that he sent Mr.Bascomb away, and is himself remaining," thought Tom Reade, "it is rather plain that this scoundrel, Evarts, is awaiting some one else." The same thought had occurred to Dick Prescott, though, as they lay within thirty feet of where Evarts reclined on the ground, the chums did not deem it wise to exchange even whispers.
After another half-hour Dick pressed Tom's arm.

Other footsteps were now near.

Then Mr.Sambo Ebony slouched on to the scene.
"Hullo, Tar!" was the ex-foreman's careless greeting.
"Now, doan' get too prescrumptious wid me," warned the black man, with an evil grin that displayed his big, white teeth.

"Yo' an' me hab done been good frien's, an' pulled togedder.