"I don't know. I ain't seen him but once since," answered the woman.
David laughed rather drearily. "Don't try to fool me. You've got to tell me the truth before I go away from here. You might as well do it first as last."
The old woman looked furtively and anxiously at the heap of dead branches. "I am telling you the truth," she asserted.
"Where is he, Granny?" continued David. "I've got to find him."
"You ain't got to find him," protested the old woman. "You can't give him away, and it won't do no good. Ain't you his——" She stopped short. "You can't make him change now; it is too late."
"I don't want to talk; I've got to get back," returned David quietly. "If you don't tell me where he is, I'll give the alarm and have the country scoured for him."
The old woman whispered something in David's ear. "I am not sure he is there, but I think that's the place. I know we can trust you, boy, for all your high and mighty ways."
"You had better get away from here, Granny," answered David. "You are too old for this sort of life, and some day you will get into trouble."
The gypsy's hand moved patiently. "It's the only kind of life I have been used to for many, many years. I don't mind, so long as he keeps on getting off."
David strode down the hill. It was just before sunset. He was beginning to doubt his being able to make his way back to the Preston place before the picnic party came home. He could not walk so fast as he had come, for he was tired and disheartened.