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Then one day the dominie came calling to ask why Harry had not been in school for quite a while. When Harry could give no explanation, grandfather locked him in the woodshed for the night. As soon as the others were asleep, Davy climbed through the window and bravely set out for the leanto, but the woods were terrible in the dark, with noises and awful shapes, and Davy began to cry. Seeing that he was too young to go, Harry realized that the game was up, and told Davy to tell grandfather the whole story. Horror-struck, the old man ran out to the leanto, and stared at what his eyes could hardly believe, while Davy ran after him. screaming in terror, "Don't eat it. grandaddy! Don't eat it!"
A court of inquiry was held, of course. The whole countryside had been in an uproar of search parties ever since the Hooft baby had disappeared; but when everyone realized that Harry had meant no harm, the case was dropped. "You'll be let off, boy," said his grandfather, and sent Harry home.
When the old man himself reached the farm, he was barefoot, and carrying no boots. He had sold his only pair for $13, which he stiffly handed to Harry with strict instructions to buy a dog.
The story of Harry and Davy has been made into a surpassing movie, The Little Kidnappers (J. Arthur Rank; United Artists), directed by Philip Leacock and written by Novelist Neil Paterson (Man on the Tightrope), whose script is a fable as deep-going and sweet-running as any on the children's shelf. The innocence of the children. Jon Whiteley as Harry and Vincent Winter as Davy, pierces the heart like a spring morning, and Duncan Macrae and Jean Anderson are fearfully true to life as the boys' Scottish Calvinist grandparents. The photography, by Eric Cross, fills the background with a balmy, natural murmur that seems to heal the young hearts as soon as they are hurt. All in all, The Little Kidnappers is one of the half-dozen best movies ever made about children.