The farmer pocketed the money that Miss Elting handed him.
"I've my own opinion of you!" flared Crazy Jane.
"Maybe you have," chuckled the farmer, "but----"
"You're quite right," Jane McCarthy taunted. "You wouldn't feel highly
complimented if I were to express that opinion!"
"If it's that kind of an opinion----" muttered the farmer, turning red
under the coat of tan on his face.
"It's _worse_!" retorted Crazy Jane incisively.
Muttering under his breath, but failing to speak clearly, the abashed
farmer turned on his heel, striding away.
The humor of the situation now appealing to them, the girls and their
guardian began to laugh heartily.
"Harriet, I believe you suspected this all the time," declared Miss
Elting finally.
"Those boys looked mischievous. I didn't know what it was all about, but
after a while, I confess, I did suspect them. Never mind, I'll be even
with them."
"No, you leave it to me," interjected Jane.
"I am glad that none of you girls betrayed the boys," declared Miss
Elting approvingly. "I would suggest that you say nothing to them when
we next see them. Let them introduce the subject if it is introduced at
all. They may betray themselves. Tommy, don't you lisp a word of it."
"I don't lithp," retorted the little girl indignantly. "I thpeak jutht
like other folkth."
"I did not mean it that way, dear," laughed the guardian. "I meant that
you shouldn't mention our experience to any one. Now that we have bought
and paid for the melons I think we had better stow them in the car.
Come, let us get ready for bed."
"Are we to make an early start in the morning?" asked Hazel.
"Yes. We must not delay if we expect to remain in the contest."
The girls had no intention of giving up the contest. They thought it
possible that they might have the company of the Tramp Club on the
morrow, as a good part of the Meadow-Brook course lay over a highway,
this being the most direct route for the day's tramping.
Rather to their surprise they discovered no trace of the Tramp Club next
day. The smoke from the latter's campfire was no longer visible when the
girls left their own camp in the morning, nor was there any indication
on the road that the boys had passed over it. What the girls did not
know was that the boys had slipped off into a ravine when the word had
been brought to them that the irate farmer was out looking for the
people who had visited his melon patch. From there they had moved inland
and made a new camp. In the morning they took a roundabout course,
avoiding the highway. It were better to be beaten by the girls that day
than to be caught by the angry farmer. It was because of this longer
route that the Meadow-Brook Girls were again able to get ahead of their
rivals.
The tracks of Jane's car had long since been obliterated when the party
neared the end of the day's journey. This did not trouble them, for a
certain definite stopping place had been agreed upon, and as was
customary, when following the highway, the girls now and then dropped a
handful of grass in the road. Especially was this done when they came to
forks in the road, so that in case Jane McCarthy returned that way to
look for them she might see which direction they had taken. In doing
this, though the girls were unaware of the fact, they were following a
gipsy practice as old as gipsies themselves. It was the gipsies' way of
marking their trail for the benefit of others of their kind who had
straggled behind.
"I think this is the place," decided Miss Elting, halting, pointing down
a narrow lane that extended through a field of stunted bushes and brush.
The gate that had once shut off this byway from the main road lay broken
at one side of it and a ridge of grass had grown knee high in the middle
of the lane. It was a lane that had once led down to a cider mill that
now lay a heap of ruins.
"It ith thpooky-looking," observed Tommy.
"Jane is here," exclaimed Harriet. "I see her car tracks, but I don't
see her car."
"No; the car has come out onto the highway and gone on," Miss Elting
declared. "Jane must have driven to the next town to get something. We
will go down that lane."
Harriet dropped some grass in the road, marking a trail into the byway
to notify Jane that they had arrived. They then made their way down the
lane. The girls were tired and footsore. Walking in the road had been
more wearisome than tramping over the hills and fields, perhaps because
the former was less interesting and more monotonous. It was therefore a
welcome sight when they espied the tent that they called home, even
though it was a now weather-beaten and dingy-looking piece of canvas.
But Jane was nowhere in sight. Neither was her car.
"Where can Jane be?" exclaimed Margery.
"Perhaps this will explain matters," replied Miss Elting, taking down a
sheet of writing paper that had been pinned to the flap of the tent.
"Ah! Jane says she has gone on to the town of Granite to meet her
father, from whom she got a letter this morning. She says she may not be
back until late, and that we shall find the melons in the bushes to the
west of the tent."
"I don't want any of those old melons," pouted Margery.
"I do," retorted Tommy. "I'll eat all I can get."
"At least, we have a right to eat them now that we have paid for them,"
smiled the guardian. "The first thing to do will be to heat some water
and bathe. We are all very dusty. Tommy, you and Margery take your baths
first. In the meantime we will build the fire and get the supper going.
This is going to be a pleasant camp. I wonder if we shall see our
friends, the boys, this evening?"
"Not if they see us first," chuckled Harriet. "Oh, what we won't do to
them when we get the opportunity."
"Jane must have had quite a time putting up the tent without
assistance," remarked Miss Elting. "She did it very well, too."
Harriet was making the fire with Hazel's assistance, Tommy and Margery
were preparing for their baths. Twilight was upon them before they
realized it. By that time the supper was cooking, the coffee steaming,
the savory odor of food filling the air about them. The melons were
reserved for the dessert. These had ripened and were now soft, sweet and
delicious.
"Girls, it is worth four dollars and eighty cents to have such melons,
isn't it?" smiled the guardian.
"Yes, indeed," chorused the girls.
"I wonder what has become of the Tramp Club," mused Harriet.
"You will not see any more of the Tramps for a while," laughed Hazel.
"It is a wonder to me that we haven't seen any real tramps since we have
been out on this trip. At potato-digging time one usually sees a great
many of them."
"We haven't been on the road much, or perhaps we should have seen more
of them. That is one advantage in keeping away from the highways. One
meets few live things in the fields except the birds and occasionally
sheep and cattle."
"Not to mention bulls," finished Harriet laughingly. "Speaking of
tramps, I believe I just saw one over yonder," added the girl.
"Are you joking?" questioned the guardian.
For answer Harriet sprang up and ran toward the tent. She did not reach
it. She halted sharply as a man stepped in front of her. He was a
typical follower of the road, dirty, unkempt and evil looking.
"What do you want here?" demanded Harriet, with a calmness that she was
far from feeling.
"Not much. We want some money and something to eat," leered the
intruder.
"You will get neither here. What were you doing in that tent? You came
here to rob us. Go away before we give you something you won't like."
Miss Elting and Hazel sprang up, scattering the tin dishes far and wide
as they ran to Harriet's assistance, when three other men stepped into
view from the far side of the tent.
"If you folks will hand out your valuables, and make no racket about it,
we won't hurt you," announced one of the newcomers. "What we want is a
little help, that's all. We're poor fellows in distress. We ain't the
kind that rob women. We ask for assistance."
Miss Elting's revolver was in the tent where she could not reach it now.
Had she had it with her she would have assisted the men in a way that
they would not have liked. What to do under the circumstances she did
not know. Neither Tommy nor Margery appeared able to do anything. They
were frightened nearly out of their wits.
"You have a peculiar way of asking for assistance. Had you come to us in
the proper manner we should have been glad to give you something to eat.
Now we shall not. Neither have we money for you. I order you to go away
from here. If you refuse the consequences will be on your own heads. We
are not quite so defenseless as you might think. Will you go?"
The spokesman laughed. The spirit of the girls appeared to amuse him.
The fellow had not the least idea that there was any other person about.
He, with his companions, had seen the Meadow-Brook Girls come into the
camp alone. Not another person so far as they knew, was within some
miles of the place. They had watched the camp and waited until dark to
carry out their plan of robbing the five women.
"Can you get it, do you think, Harriet?" questioned Miss Elting in a low
tone.
"I'll try," she answered. She knew what the guardian meant. "It" meant
Miss Elting's revolver. All at once the girl darted past the man who
stood directly in front of her. She had almost reached the tent, when
one of the tramps caught hold of her by the shoulder. Harriet was lithe
and quick. She slipped from his detaining clutch and sprang back. But
her opportunity was gone. The men partly divining her purpose, had
quickly blocked the entrance to the tent. The leader nodded to one of
them to watch Tommy and Margery. Three others directed their attention
to Miss Elting, Harriet and Hazel. They placed themselves in such
positions that the girls were hedged in. To try to run would be to fall
into the clutches of one or another of the three ruffians who were
guarding them.
One of the men uttered a shrill whistle. Still another tramp came
running into the camp.
"Turn out the tent in a hurry. Don't take anything that ain't good.
There's money in there somewhere. Now turn your pockets out, ladies."
His words were cut short by a long wailing cry uttered by Harriet
Burrell.
"Hoo-e-e-e-e! Hoo-e-e-e-e-e! Help, help!" It was the call of the
Meadow-Brook Girls, with the warning cry for assistance added.
The man who had made the demand sprang at her. Harriet leaped back. In
doing so she felt her arms pinioned by a second man. She had forgotten
for the moment that there were guards behind her. Miss Elting suddenly
found her arms gripped from behind. She struggled with all her strength.
So did Harriet. Hazel screamed as she felt her own arms pinioned.
"Herd the other two in the tent, then git all the swag you can find,"
commanded the spokesman breathlessly, for he was having his hands full
helping his assistant to hold Miss Elting and the two girls. One grasped
Tommy and Margery by their arms, and fairly dragging them over, flung
them into the tent. "Get the stuff! Never mind those two. They're too
scared to bother. It's these that we've got to look out for," he
directed.
"Hoo-e-e-e-e-e! Hoo-e-e-e-e-e! Help, help!" screamed Harriet.
"Yell, Hazel!" gasped Harriet.
"I--I can't! Oh, I can't!" wailed Hazel.
Tommy found her voice at this juncture and raised it in a piercing
scream. A moment later a blanket was twisted about her head and she was
flung into a corner, clawing and kicking. Margery cowered at one side of
the tent, too frightened to move.
Just then a new note was sounded. From behind the tent rose a shrill cry
in a voice unfamiliar to either the girls or to the thieving tramps, a
voice that caused the tramps to release their prisoners and turn to face
the owner of the voice prepared for trouble.