The boy wrinkled up his forehead as he gazed down at the curious, weirdly thin object at their feet, who lay there looking like a re-animated mummy, gazing feebly up at his captors, his dull eyes gleaming faintly through the nearly closed lids as if suffering from the broad light of day, before they were tightly shut, as the wretched creature, who seemed hardly to exist, sank back into a stupor that looked like the precursor of his final sleep. "Well, Dean, what have you got to propose?" said Mark. "Nothing. But if he's coming into camp along with us I am going to camp out." "It's a rum 'un," grumbled Buck. "My word, he must be an old 'un!" "Yes," said the doctor; "of a great age." "And he is a man, sir?" "Oh, yes, and he must have been a fine man in his time--six feet three or four, I should say." "Yes, sir," said Buck, "and that's the pity of it." "What has his being six feet three or four got to do with it being a pity?" said Mark sharply. "I didn't mean that, sir," said Buck. "I meant it was a pity as he's a man." "Why?" asked the boys in a breath. "Because if he had been only a beast, sir--I mean, a big monkey--it would have been a charity to put him out of his misery." "Poor wretch, yes," said the doctor. "But you can't do that, sir. I know what I should do if it was me." "What should you do, Buck?" asked Mark. "Well, sir, he arn't nothing to us. If it was me, as I said, I should put him back again." "Humph!" grunted the doctor. "Well, one wants to behave in a Christian-like way to a fellow-creature. Lay him in his place there at the mouth of the cavern, where we scared him out." This was done, and the doctor turned to Mark. "Now, boy, what next?" "I know," cried Mark. "Here, Dan, what about the soup?" "Plenty, sir--only wants making hot." "Be off and get a tinful, if you can find your way." "If I can find my way, sir!" said the little sailor, laughing. "I think I can do that;" and he trotted off. "That ought to put some life into him," growled Buck; "but I want them two chaps to come and see their spirit. There they are, peeping round the corner at us." "Yes," said Mark, "but we are not going to stop here. Don't you think they ought to come and look after the old savage?" "Well, I don't know," said the doctor. "I should be afraid to trust them. They might do the poor old fellow a mischief. Here, boys, call them up." Mark cooeyed, but only made the two blacks shrink back again. "It's of no use," said the doctor. "We must leave him alone." And after laying their find carefully in his den the little party wended their way back to the camp to report their adventures to Sir James. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. QUERY: KING SOLOMON? "Well, Dan," said Mark, as he and his cousin came upon their handy man, "did you give the poor old fellow the soup?" "No, sir." "What! Then why didn't you?" "Couldn't find him, sir." "Didn't you go up to the old cavern?"