Though they were too busy to notice, so did Margery. There was a growing eagerness, a sudden wondering expression, on her face.
Had they noted Margery’s face as did the Indians, they would have seen it light up suddenly with a great amazement. That tiny bit of earth, shied in that way, awakened the memories she had been trying to recall.
She knew who that youth was, over across the weirdly lighted Indian hut!
He was Tom—her brother!
But she did not speak, nor did she cry out. The Indians, watching her with their steady, black eyes, saw the first show of surprise and then she settled back into her position, and her face became expressionless. She was a child in her use of English because she had no one to grow up with; but in her common sense she had all the wise patience of the Indians. She waited quietly. This was no time for a dramatic reunion!
Tom, his sentences ready, spoke.
“Did you fellows notice the sun set? Wasn’t it like fire? I saw it over the hut. It was a picture I’d like to take. Who is this girl? Out here in the jungle?”
He made a sign that he was finished, but then went on speaking in a mutter, although his friends no longer heeded him; it was done to throw aside suspicion. His message had to be recalled. What had he said.
Margery did not understand at all. She was disappointed. When Tom used to shy a pebble it meant that he wanted to fool his companions of the moment and she and he would talk rapidly in a fashion to confuse his schoolmates. They had made that up together when they played and went to school. And here he was out in this wild place, come to her. Did he recognize her? He had made one of their old signals. But then he went on talking in a different code. It did not seem right and she was puzzled. She knew it was Tom. Did he know her?
Nicky and Cliff had by that time discovered the endings of the sentences and knew Tom’s message.