"Hello, Roy," he said amiably.
Roy looked up at him, nodded. Dan'l caught a glimpse of the shadow in his eyes and asked in a friendly tone: "What's wrong? You're worried about something...."
Roy shook his head. "No."
Dan'l laughed. "Shucks! You can't fool any one with that, Roy. If you don't want to talk...."
Roy hesitated; he studied Dan'l for a moment. "Dan'l," he said, "you've known Faith and me all our lives. I guess I can talk to you if I can to anybody. And I've got to talk to somebody, Dan'l."
Dan'l nodded soberly. "I'm here to be talked to. What's the matter, Roy?"
The boy asked abruptly: "Dan'l—have you noticed the way Faith looks at Brander?"
Dan'l had been half prepared for the question; nevertheless his fingers dug into his palms. He remained silent for a minute, thinking.... His thoughts raced.... And his eyes fell on foul-tongued Slatter, at the wheel.... There was a piece of luck; an instrument ready to his hand. Dan'l still hesitated for a space; his brows twisting.... Then the man threw all decency behind him, and flung himself at last into the paths toward which his feet had been tending. He moved to one side, so that Roy, facing him, must also face the man at the wheel; so that Roy's words would come to Slatter's ears. And Dan'l was very sure that Slatter would take care to hear....
For another moment he did not speak; then he laughed harshly; and he asked: "What do you mean, Roy?"
Roy repeated: "I mean the way Faith looks at Brander all the time. Looking at him.... A queer way...."