“No, sir; he tries to talk, but I cannot understand what he means.”
“Ask him a question, Gladys,” said her father.
“Boy, you have lost your hat—would you like a new one?” the young girl questioned.
“M’ha! m’ha!” he instantly answered, putting his hand to his head, thus showing as before that he had comprehended something of what was said to him.
Mr. Huntress’ face lighted.
“Try something else,” he commanded.
“Where do you live, boy?” Gladys inquired.
This query, like the previous one, only elicited a perfect storm of unintelligible sounds.
“Do you wish to go home to your friends?” Gladys continued, making another effort.
But the only response was a short, sharp ejaculation of pain, while the lad seized her hand and laid his cheek affectionately against it, looking appealingly into her face, as if thus to signify that he did not wish to leave her.