LITTLE WREN AND THE GIPSIES.
They flew on, keeping the motor car beneath them in constant sight till
about noon. Then, from the tonneau of the machine, came the waving of a
red square of silk. This had been agreed upon as a signal to halt for a
brief lunch.
Shouting joyously, the young adventurers of the air began circling their
machines about, dropping closer earthward with every sweep. Beneath them
was a green meadow, bordered on one side by a country road and on the
other by a small brook of clear water and a patch of dark woods. It was
an ideal place to halt for a roadside lunch, and as one after the other
the machines dropped to earth Miss Prescott was warmly congratulated on
her choice of a halting place.
The car was left in the road, and the melancholy Jake Rickets set to
work getting wood for a fire, for it was not to be thought of that Miss
Prescott could go without her cup of tea. In the meantime the girls
spread a cloth and set out their fare. There were dainty chicken
sandwiches with crisp lettuce leaves lurking between the thin white
"wrappers," cold meat and half a dozen other little picnic delicacies,
which all the girls, despite their aërial craze, had not forgotten how
to make.
The boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aëroplanes,
they beheld the inviting table.
"This beats camping out by ourselves," declared Roy, "girls, we're glad
we brought you."
"Thank you for the compliment," laughed Jess. "I suppose you mean that
you are glad _we_ brought all this."
She waved her hand at the "spread" dramatically.
"Both," rejoined Jimsy, throwing himself on the grass. By this time
Jake's kettle was bubbling merrily, and soon the refreshing aroma of
Miss Prescott's own particular kind of tea was in the air. The boys
preferred to try the water from the brook, despite Jake's dire hints at
typhoid and other germs holding a convention in it. It was sweet and
cool, and the girls voted it as good as ice-cream soda.
"At any rate as we can't get any we might as well pretend it is,"
declared Bess.
So the meal passed merrily. After it had been concluded, amid gay
chatter and fun, Peggy proposed an excursion to the woods for wild
flowers which grew in great profusion on the opposite side of the
stream. Crossing it by a plank bridge, the young people plunged into the
cool woods, dark and green, and carpeted with flowering shrubs and
vines.
For some time they gathered the blossoms, and were just about to return
to the aëroplanes and resume their journey when Peggy uttered a sudden
sharp exclamation:
"Hark! What's that?" she cried.
They all listened. Again came the sound that had arrested her attention;
a sharp cry, as if some one was in pain or fright.
Then came definite words:
"Don't! Please; don't hit me again!"
"It's a child!" exclaimed Jimsy.
"A girl!" cried Peggy, "some one is ill-treating her."
"We'll soon find out!" cried Roy hotly. It infuriated the boy to think
that a child was being subjected to ill-treatment, and the nature of the
cries left no doubt that such was the case.
"Stand back here, girls, while we see what's up!" struck in Jimsy.
"Indeed we'll do no such thing!" rejoined the plucky Bess, bridling
indignantly.
"At any rate let us go in advance," advised Roy; "we don't know just
what we may run up against."
This appeared reasonable even to Bess, and with the boys slightly in
advance the little group pressed rapidly forward. After traveling about
two hundred yards they found themselves in a small clearing where a most
unusual sight presented itself; a sight that brought a quick flash of
indignation to the face of every one of them.
Cowering under the blows of a tall, swarthy woman was a small girl, so
fragile as to appear almost elfin. The woman wore the garb of a gipsy,
and the presence of some squalid tents and tethered horses showed our
young friends at once that it was a gipsy encampment upon which they
had happened.
The woman was so intent on belaboring the shrieking child that at first
she did not see the newcomers. It was not till Roy stepped up to her,
in fact, that she became aware of their presence.
"What are you doing to this child?" demanded Roy indignantly.
"That's none of your business," was the retort, as the woman for an
instant released her hold on the child.
Instantly the little creature darted to the sheltering arms of Peggy,
sobbing piteously.
"Oh! Save me from her, she will kill me," the child cried, in a broken
voice.
"There! there!" soothed Peggy tenderly, "don't cry. We won't let her
harm you any more."
But like a fury the woman flew at the girls. Before she could lay hands
on them, however, Roy and Jimsy had seized her arms and held them. At
this the crone set up a hideous shriek and, as if it had been a signal,
two swarthy men, with dark skins and big earrings in their ears, came
running from behind the tents.
"What's the trouble?" they cried, as they ran up, regarding the boys
malevolently.
"It's the Wren; they're trying to steal the Wren!" shrilled out the
woman.
At this the men rushed at the boys, one of them waving a thick cudgel
he carried.
"Let go of that woman," they shouted furiously.
Another instant and the boys would have been in a bad position, for both
the gipsies were powerful fellows, and appeared determined to commit
violence. But Roy, releasing his hold of the struggling gipsy woman,
put up his fists in such a scientific manner that, for an instant, the
attack paused. This gave Jimsy time to rush to his side. The instant
she was released the woman darted to the side of the men.
"Beat them! Kill them!" she cried frantically.
The men resumed their rush, and the next moment the boys found
themselves fighting to escape a furious assault. Neither of the lads was
a weakling, and good habits and constant athletic exercise had placed
them in the pink of condition.
But the two gipsies were no mean antagonists. Then, too, the one with
the cudgel wielded it skillfully. Time and again Jimsy avoided a heavy
blow which, if successful, must have injured him seriously. The girls,
screaming, rushed off, carrying "the Wren," as the woman called her,
with them. They dashed at top speed back to the spot where the
aëroplanes had been left, and summoned Jake.
"I knew something would happen," declared that worthy, as he picked up a
monkey wrench, the only weapon at hand, and started off for the woods.
The girls followed him, Miss Prescott not having been vouchsafed
anything but a most hurried explanation of what was going on. Just as
Jake appeared on the scene Jimsy had received a terrific blow on the arm
from one of the gipsy's cudgels. The boy's arm dropped as if paralyzed.
With a howl of triumph the ruffian who had dealt him the blow rushed in
on the injured lad. In another instant it would have looked bad indeed
for Jimsy, but Roy, landing a hard blow against his assailant, hastened
to his chum's rescue.
"You look after that fellow. I'll take care of this one," cried Jake,
rushing into the mêlée, whirling his monkey wrench in a formidable
manner.
The girls, huddled in a group, gazed on in frank alarm.
"Oh, they'll be killed!" shrilled Jess.
"Roy! Roy! Be careful!" cried Peggy.
"Oh, I wish we could get a policeman," cried Bess, clasping her hands
nervously. But as it happened a policeman, even if such a personage had
been within a dozen miles, was not needed. A clever blow from Roy laid
the cudgel wielder low, and the other man, not liking the look of Jake's
monkey wrench, capitulated by taking to his heels. The woman cowered
back among the tents.
"Come on, let's be going," cried Roy, as he saw that the battle was
over.
"Ouch! my wrist!" exclaimed Jimsy, wringing his left hand; "I believe
that fellow has broken it."
"Let's have a look," said Roy, as the two boys made their way to the
huddled group of girls.
"Nothing but a nasty whack," he pronounced, after an examination. "Well,
girls, was it an exciting battle?"
"Oh, it was terrible," cried Jess; "we thought you'd be badly beaten."
"But as it is we appear to be future 'white hopes,' not forgetting
Jake," smiled Roy, who was still panting from his exertions.
"You were awfully brave, I think," cried Bess admiringly, giving the
three "heroes" a warm glance.
"Well, there wasn't anything to do but fight, unless we'd run away,"
laughed Roy, "and now what about the cause of all the trouble?"
He glanced at the little girl clinging to Peggy's hand. The child was
pitifully emaciated, with drawn features and large, dark eyes that gazed
about her bewilderedly. Her clothing was a red gingham dress that fitted
her like a sack. She was shoeless and stockingless. Her brown hair,
unkempt and ragged, hung in elf locks about her sad little face.
Certainly, as regarded size and general appearance, her name, "The
Wren," fitted her admirably.
"I don't know what to do about her," admitted Peggy; "suppose we ask
Aunt Sally? I don't want to let the gipsies have her again, and yet I
don't see how we can take her."
At the words the little creature burst into a frantic outbreak.
"Don't let those people have me back; don't," she begged; "they'll
kill me if you do."
She clung passionately to Peggy's dress. Tears came to the girl's eyes
at the pitiful manifestation of fear.
"There! there, dear," soothed Peggy, stroking the child's head,
"you shan't go back if we can help it. Come with us for the time being,
anyway."
"But we have no legal right to take her," objected Roy.
"Don't say another word," snapped the usually gentle Peggy, whose
indignation had been fully aroused, "come on. Let's get back to where
we left Aunt Sally, then we can decide what to do."
"Incidentally, we'll do well to get out of this vicinity before any more
of those fellows come up. There must be several more somewhere close at
hand," exclaimed Jimsy.
"Yes; and I'll bet the others, the two who ran off, have gone to call
them," put in Roy; "that woman has disappeared, too."
No time was lost in getting back to the aëroplanes, "The Wren," as the
gipsies called her, keeping tight hold of Peggy's hand. The boys walked
behind and, with Jake, formed a sort of rear guard to ward off any
possible attack. But either the other members of the band were far off,
or else they did not care to attempt an assault, for the party reached
the aëroplanes without further incident or molestation.
Miss Prescott's consternation may be imagined as she listened to the
tale they had to tell. From time to time during its relation she glanced
pityingly at the Wren.
"Poor child!" she exclaimed, gazing at the wizened little creature's
bruised arms. They were black and blue from rough handling, and bore
painful testimony to the life she had lived among the gipsies.
"What is your name, dear?" she asked, motioning to the child as Peggy
finished her story.
"The Wren, that's what they always called me," was the response, in
a thin little wisp of a voice.
"Have you no other name?" asked Miss Prescott kindly.
The child shook her head.
"I don't know. Perhaps I did once. I wasn't always with the tribe.
I remember a home and my mother, but that was all so long ago that
it isn't clear."
"Then she's not a gipsy," declared Peggy emphatically.
"I'll bet they kidnapped her some place," exclaimed Roy.
"That doesn't solve the problem of what to do with her," struck in Jess.
"We can't send her back to those people," declared Bess, with some
warmth.
"On the other hand, how are we to look after her?" said Jimsy.
"It's a problem that will have to solve itself," said Miss Prescott,
after a few moments of deep thinking.
"How is that?" asked Peggy.
"Because she goes with us no matter what happens. It may not be legal,
but humanity comes above the law sometimes," declared Miss Prescott,
with emphasis.
"Hurrah for Aunt Sally!" cried the boys, "she's as militant as a newly
blossomed suffragette. Cheer up, Wren, you're all right now."
"Then I'm to stay with you?" questioned the child.
"Of course," came from Aunt Sally.
The child buried her head on the kind-hearted lady's lap and burst into
a passion of weeping that fairly shook her frail frame.
It was at this juncture that Jake set up a shout and pointed toward the
woods. From them a group of men had burst, armed with sticks and stones.
They came rushing straight at the little group, uttering ferocious
shouts.
"We're in for it now," exclaimed Roy; "girls, you had better get in the
machine and drive a safe distance. Those fellows mean mischief."