That ride, shut in the Gypsy van, was one that neither Tess nor Dot
nor Sammy Pinkney were likely soon to forget. The car plunged along
the country road, and the distance the party traveled was
considerable, although the direction was circuitous and did not, after
two hours, take the Gypsy clan much farther from Milton than they had
been at the previous camp.
By eleven o'clock they pulled off the road into a little glade that
had been well known to the leaders of the party. A new camp was
established in a very short time. Tents were again erected, fires
kindled for the late supper, and the life of the Gypsy town was
re-begun.
But Sammy and the two little Corner House girls were forbidden to
leave the van in which they had been made to ride.
Big Jim came over himself, banged Sammy with his broad palm, and told
him:
"You keep-a them here--you see? If those kids get out, I knock you
good. See?"
Sammy saw stars at least! He would not answer the man. There was
something beside stubbornness to Sammy Pinkney. But stubbornness stood
him in good stead just now.
"Don't you mind, Tess and Dot," he whispered, his own voice broken
with half-stifled sobs. "I'll get you out of it. We'll run away first
chance we get."
"But it never does _you_ any good to run away, Sammy," complained
Tess. "You only get into trouble. Dot and I don't want to be beaten by
that man. He is horrid."
"I wish we could see those nice ladies who sold us the basket," wailed
Dot, quite desperate now. "I--I'd be _glad_ to give 'em back the
bracelet."
"Sh!" hissed Sammy. "We'll run away and we'll take the bracelet along.
These Gyps sha'n't ever get it again, so there!"
"Humph! I don't see what you have to say about _that_, Sammy," scoffed
Tess. "If the women own it, of course they have got to have it. But I
don't want that Big Jim to have it--not at all!"
"He won't get it. You leave it to me," said Sammy, with recovered
assurance.
The van door was neither locked nor barred. But if the children had
stepped out of it the firelight would have revealed their figures
instantly to the Gypsies.
Either the women bending over the pots and pans at the fires or the
children running about the encampment would have raised a hue and cry
if the little captives had attempted to run away. And there were a
dozen burly men sitting about, smoking and talking and awaiting the
call to supper.
This meal was finally prepared. The fumes from the pots reached the
nostrils of Tess, Dot, and Sammy, and they were all ravenously hungry.
Nor were they denied food. The Gypsies evidently had no intention of
maltreating the captives in any particular as long as they obeyed and
did not try to escape.
One young woman brought a great pan of stew and bread and three spoons
to the van and set it on the upper step for the children.
"You eat," said she, smiling, and the firelight shining on her gold
earrings. "It do you goot--yes?"
"Oh, Miss Gypsy!" begged Tess, "we want to go home."
"That all right. Beeg Jeem tak-a you. To-morrow, maybe."
She went away hurriedly. But she had left them a plentiful supper. The
three were too ravenous to be delicate. They each seized a spoon and,
as Sammy advised, "dug in."
"This is the way all Gypsies eat," he said, proud of his knowledge.
"Sometimes the men use their pocket knives to cut up the meat. But
they don't seem to have any forks. And I guess forks aren't necessary
anyway."
"But they are nicer than fingers," objected Tess.
"Huh? Are they?" observed the young barbarian.
After they had completely cleared the pan of every scrap and eaten
every crumb of bread and drunk the milk that had been brought to them
in a quart cup, Dot naturally gave way to sleepiness. She began to
whimper a little too.
"If that big, bad Gypsy man doesn't take us home pretty soon I shall
have to sleep here, Sister," she complained.
"You lie right down on this bench," said Tess kindly, "and I will
cover you up and you can sleep as long as you want to."
So Dot did this. But Sammy was not at all sleepy. His mind was too
active for that. He was prowling about the more or less littered van.
"Say!" he whispered to Tess, "there is a little window here in the
front overlooking the driver's seat. And it swings on a hinge like a
door."
"I don't care, Sammy. I--I'm sleepy, too," confessed Tess, with a yawn
behind her hand.
"Say! don't _you_ go to sleep like a big kid," snapped the boy. "We've
got to get away from these Gyps."
"I thought you were going to stay with them forever."
"Not to let that Big Jim bang me over the head. Not much!" ejaculated
Sammy fiercely. "If my father saw him do that--"
"But your father isn't here. If he was--"
"If he was you can just bet," said Sammy with confidence, "that Big
Jim would not dare hit me."
"I--I wish your father would come and take us all home then," went on
Tess, with another yawn.
"Well," admitted Sammy, "I wish he would, too. Crickey! but it's awful
to have girls along, whether you are a pirate or a Gypsy."
"You needn't talk!" snapped Tess, quite tart for her. "We did not ask
to come. And you were here 'fore we got here. And now you can't get
away any more than Dot and I can."
"Sh!" advised Sammy again, and earnestly. "I got an idea."
"What is it?" asked Tess, without much curiosity.
"This here window in front!" whispered the boy. "We can open it. It is
all dark at that end of the van. If we can slide out on to the seat
we'll climb down in the dark and get into the woods. I know the way to
the road. I can see a patch of it through the window. What say?"
"But Dot? She sleeps so hard," breathed Tess.
"We can poke her through the window on to the seat. Then we will crawl
through. If she doesn't wake up and holler--"
"I'll stop her from hollering," agreed Tess firmly. "We'll try it,
Sammy, before those awful women get back into the van."
Fortunately for the attempt of the captives their own supper had been
dispatched with promptness. The Gypsies were still sitting about over
the meal when Sammy opened that front window in the van.
He and Tess lifted Dot, who complained but faintly and kept her eyes
tightly closed, and pushed her feet first through the small window.
The driver's seat was broad and roomy. The little girl lay there all
right while first Tess and then Sammy crept through the window.
It was dark here, and they could scarcely see the way to the ground.
But Sammy ventured down first, and after barking his shins a little
found the step and whispered his directions to Tess about passing Dot
down to him.
They actually got to the ground themselves and brought the smallest
Corner House girl with them without any serious mishap. Sammy tried to
carry Dot over his shoulder, but he could not stagger far with her.
And, too, the sleepy child began to object.
"Sh! Keep still!" hissed her sister in Dot's ear. "Do you want the
Gypsies to get you again?"
She had to help Sammy carry the child, however. Dot was such a heavy
sleeper--especially when she first went to sleep--that nothing could
really bring her back to realities. The two stumbled along with her in
the deep shadows and actually reached the woods that bordered the
encampment.
Suddenly a dog barked. Somebody shouted to the animal and it subsided
with a sullen growl. But in a moment another dog began to yap. The
guards of the camp realized that something was going wrong, although
as yet none of the dogs had scented the escaping children exactly.
"Oh, hurry! Hurry!" gasped Tess. "The dogs will chase us."
"I am afraid they will," admitted Sammy. "We got to hide our trail."
"How'll we do that, Sammy?" gasped Tess.
"Like the Indians do," declared the boy. "We got to find a stream of
water and wade in it."
"But I've got shoes and stockings on. And Mrs. McCall says we can't go
wading without asking permission."
"Crickey! how you going to run away from these Gypsies if you've got
to mind what you're told all the time?" asked Sammy desperately.
"But won't the water be cold? And why wade in it, anyway?"
"So the dogs can't follow our scent. They can't follow scent through
water. Come on. We got to find a brook or something."
"There's the canal," ventured Tess, in an awed whisper.
"The canal, your granny!" exclaimed the exasperated boy. "That's over
your head, Tess Kenway."
"Well! I don't know of any other water. Oh! Hear those dogs bark."
"Don't you s'pose I've got ears?" snapped Sammy.
"They sound awful savage."
"Yes. They've got some savage dogs," admitted the boy.
"Will they bite us? Oh, Sammy! will they bite us?"
"Not if they don't catch us," replied the boy, staggering on, bearing
the heavier end of Dot while Tess carried her sister's feet.
They suddenly burst through a fringe of bushes upon the open road.
There was just starlight enough to show them the way. The dogs were
still barking vociferously back at the Gypsy camp. But there seemed to
be no pursuit.
"Oh, my gracious! I've torn my frock," gasped Tess. "Do wait, Sammy."
The boy stopped. Indeed he had to, for his own breath had given out.
The three fell right down on the grass beside the road, and Dot began
to whimper.
"You stop her, Tess!" exclaimed Sammy. "You said you could. She will
bring those Gypsies right here."
"Dot! Dot!" whispered Tess, shaking the smaller girl. "Do you want to
be a prisoner again? Keep still!"
"My--my knees are cold," whined Dot.
"Je-ru-sa-lem!" gasped Sammy explosively. "_Now_ she's done it! We're
caught again."
He jumped to his feet, but not quickly enough to escape the
outstretched hand of the figure that had suddenly appeared beside
them. A dark face bent over the trio of frightened children.
"He's a Gyp!" cried Sammy. "We're done for, Tess!"