David shut his eyes in the affirmative.
For a moment Roy hesitated, then, as if deciding he could not get any further information, he turned to go. But as he did so he saw such a look of profound despair pass over David’s face that he turned to him again. The mute appeal in the boy’s eyes gripped at his heart.
“You want me to search in some particular place for Kasba?” he said.
The eyes shut instantly.
“At the ‘saw pit’?” David stared at him.
“Sandy Ridge?” There was no response.
Roy mentioned all the likely localities by name, but those haunting eyes only watched him feverishly.
Tenderly he patted the boy’s head. “You have done your best, David,” Roy said, “but it is impossible for me to understand where you mean and I must go and look for the girl without further delay.” With this he turned away. But David, after lying perfectly still as if to collect all his failing energies for one mighty effort, partly raised himself and called out something in a hoarse shriek, but with such vehemence as to cause the first part to be quite unintelligible.
The sound of David’s voice brought Roy round on his heel with a swing. His quick ear had caught the word “gully.” The boy was lying on the table breathing fast and hard, his keen black eyes watching the trader with an eagerness that told that he was anxiously waiting to be further questioned.
“Gully! gully!” said Roy to himself; “What does he mean?” Then, in a flash it came to him. About a mile from the “little hill” was a gully, Peter’s gully.