Frank had been trying to allay the fears of the trembling child, and he simply made a gesture for Bart to be quiet, which was seen and understood, for all of the fast-deepening shadows.
“We will not harm you,” Merry was saying, in a soft, gentle way. “You need have no further fear. What is your name?”
“Felicia,” was the low answer. “But Old Joe calls me Star Eyes.”
“Felicia—what a pretty name!” said Frank. “And these bad men were carrying you off?”
“Yes. Please take me home.”
“We’ll do that, little Felicia. Your home is here, in the valley?”
“Yes, sir. It’s in the Black Woods, by Lake Sunshine.”
“Lake Sunshine? Another pretty name! What do you call the valley?”
“Pleasant Valley.”
“And that is a pretty name, too.”