The sceptical old man looked down on the child quizzically, yet sadly. His flexible mouth twitched to reply, but he was silent. Hoyle looked back into the old doctor's eyes with grave, direct gaze, and turned away. "You reckon why he done hit?"
"See here. Suppose—just suppose you were given your choice this minute to change places with Frale—Lord knows where he is now, or what he's doing—or be as you are and live your own life; which would you be? Think it over; think it out."
"Ef I had 'a' been straight, brother David never would 'a' took me up to you?"
"No—no—no. You would have been a—"
"You mean if a magic man should come by here an' just touch me so, an' change me into Frale, would I 'low him to do hit?"
"That's what I mean."
"I don't guess Frale, he'd like to be done that-a-way." The loving little chap nestled closer to the doctor's side. "I like you a heap, Doctah Hoyle. Frale, he fit brothah David—an' nigh about killed him. I reckon I rutheh be like I be, an' bide nigh Cass an' th' baby—an' have the 'quar'um—an' see maw—an' go with you. You reckon I can go back with you?"
"Go back? Of course—go back."