Eve Sitz had plenty to do out of school hours when she was at home.
Nobody could afford to be idle at the Sitz farm. But she found time,
too, to put on an old skirt, gym. shoes, and a sweater, and go down
behind the barn to practice her broad jump and to throw a baseball at
the high board fence behind the sheepfold.
She grew expert indeed in ball throwing, and occasionally when Otto, her
brother, caught her at this exercise, he marvelled that his sister could
throw the horsehide farther and straighter than he.
"Dot beats it all, mein cracious!" gasped Otto, who was older than Eve
by several years, had never been to school in this new country, and was
one who would never be able to speak English without a strong accent.
"How a girl can t'row a pall like dot. I neffer!"
"You wait till June, Otto," replied his sister, in German. "If you come
to the big field the day of the Centerport High Schools, you will see
that girls can do quite well in athletics. You know how we can row, and
you saw us play basketball. Wait till you see the Central High girls on
track and field!"
"A lot of foolishness," croaked Otto. "You go to the school to learn to
be smart, no?"
"No," replied Eve, laughing at him. "I am smart in the first place, or I
would not go. And don't I help mother just as much--and milk--and feed
the pigs and chickens--and all that? Wait till you see me put the shot.
I am going to win a whole point for the school if I am champion
shot-putter."
"Ach! It is beyond me," declared Otto, walking off to attend to his
work.
The family--plain Swiss folk as they were--thought Eve quite mad over
these "foolish athletics." They had no such things in the schools at
home--in the old country. Yet Father and Mother Sitz were secretly proud
of their big and handsome daughter. She was growing up "American." That
was something to be achieved. They had come of peasant stock, and hoped
that their girl, at least, would mix with a more highly educated class
of young folk in this new country.
So, if Eve thought that the tasks which usually fell to her nights and
mornings, and on Saturdays, were not sufficient to keep her in what she
called "condition," her parents made no objection to her throwing
baseballs, or jumping, or taking long walks, or riding on the old gray
mare's back over the North pasture.
And it was upon one of these rides that she fell upon her second
adventure that Spring with the Gypsies--or, at least, with one of the
tribe.
It occurred on the Saturday morning following Miss Carrington's meeting
with Jim Varey, husband of the Gypsy queen. Of course, Bobby Hargrew had
said nothing about this mysterious connection of the martinet teacher
with the roving band of "Egyptians"; it was not her secret, and although
Bobby might be an innocent gossip, she was no tale-bearer.
Eve finished her morning's work, "pegged" the baseball at the target she
had marked with a brush on the sheep fold fence, managing to scare all
the woolly muttons out of at least half of their senses, and then
grabbed up a bridle and ran down to the pasture bars and whistled for
the mare.
The old horse came cantering across the field. Eve never failed to have
a lump of sugar in her pocket, and the old girl nuzzled around for it
and would not be content until she had munched it. Meanwhile Eve slipped
on the bridle and sprang upon the creature's back.
Hester Grimes, and Lily Pendleton, and some of the wealthier girls who
went to Central High, rode horseback in the parks. They went to a riding
school and cantered around a tanbark ring, and then rode, very demurely,
two and two, upon old broken-kneed hacks through the bridle-paths. Mrs.
Case approved of horseback exercise for girls, either astride or
side-saddle, as they pleased; but she certainly would have held her
breath in fear had she seen Eve Sitz career down the rocky pasture upon
her mount on this keen-aired morning.
It had rained over night and the bushes were still dripping. Every time
a sharp hoof of the unshod mare tore up a clod as she cantered, Eve got
the scent of the wet earth in her nostrils, and drank it in with long
and deep inhalations. She rode the mare with a loose rein and let her
take her head.
They dashed down the hill and through the narrow path that crossed a
piece of Mr. Sitz's swamp land. Here the dogwood was budding and a few
Judas-trees displayed a purple blush, as though a colored mist hung
about them. In a few days the bushes would burst forth in full flower.
Eve rode fast along the swamp path. It was narrow, and to have ventured
three yards upon either side would have been to sink, horse and all,
into the quagmire. This was a waste piece of the farm that her father
hoped to drain at some time, but now it was only a covert for birds and
frogs.
But suddenly, as the girl rode fast, she thought she heard a cry. She
half checked her mount; but the sound was not repeated.
A minute later the gray mare was through the marsh-piece and out upon
the field beyond. Eve intended circling around by Peveril Pond and so
reach home again by another path; yet the mysterious cry she had heard
back there in the swamp-piece kept returning to her mind.
Suppose it had been a real cry--a human cry--a cry for help?
The thought came back to her again and again. She was in sight of the
pond, when she could stand it no longer, but pulled the mare about.
"Come, old girl! We've got to be sure of this," cried Eve. "Back you
go!"
Her mount cantered back again. They reached the edge of the swamp and
Eve pulled the mare down to a walk. Stepping daintily, the steed
followed the narrow path through the over-bushed swamp. One could not
see a dozen feet on either hand, so tall were the bushes, and so
thick--not even at the height Eve rode.
She halted her horse and called aloud:
"Ahoy! Hullo! Who called?"
No answer--for half a minute. The farmer's daughter shouted again. Then
she heard it again--a half-stifled cry--a cry that ended in a choking
gasp and which chilled the blood in her veins and made her hold her own
breath for a moment.
Was it an actual voice calling for help that had answered her? Or had
she imagined the cry?
She held in the anxious horse, and waited. Again the muffled shriek
reached her ears. Somebody was caught in the quagmire--in the quicksand.
It was off to the left, and not many yards from the path.