CHAPTER XIV—HARRIET IS RESOURCEFUL

The boys were still removing blue bottles from the wall as they swung on out of sight of the girls in the apple trees. Harriet Burrell was shaking with laughter.

“That ith right. Laugh!” jeered Tommy.“I gueth it ith funny, but I don’t thee it. Maybe I’ll laugh, to-morrow.”

“It is really the most laughable situation I ever heard of,” admitted the guardian.

“One side of it, yes,” agreed Harriet. “The other side isn’t so funny. We must think of getting out of here. All our plans have come to nothing. The boys have passed us. I am afraid we shan’t be able to catch up with them again unless we can get a start before long.”

The bulls, attracted by the singing, had turned, now facing the road. They regarded the boys menacingly, but the Tramp Club did not see them. Now the animals once more turned toward the trees that held the girls. The beasts resumed their bellowing and pawing and moved up under the trees, tossing their heads, issuing challenge after challenge to the girls to come down. But the challenges were not accepted. Harriet regarded the beasts frowningly. The other girls gazed at them in terror.

“Now, Harriet Burrell, as you wouldn’t allow me to call the boys, what do you propose to do? Remain up in a tree all night?” demanded the guardian.

“By no means.”

“I don’t dare thleep up here,” complained Tommy. “What if I thhould fall out?”

“You wouldn’t have far to fall,” answered Margery.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be awful,” gasped Hazel, “if we were to fall out of these trees?”

“The animals will go to sleep themselves after dark, I am sure. We shall be able to get away then,” replied Harriet wisely.

“I believe you are right. I hadn’t thought of that,” nodded Miss Elting. “But must we remain in this position all the rest of the day?”

“No, indeed,” replied Harriet. “I had hoped that the owner of these animals might come along, but there seems to be no one about. You see, in the autumn, the farmers are seldom abroad in the fields unless they chance to be plowing, so I think we had better move.”

“What have you in mind, Harriet? I know you have formed some plan to get us out of this predicament.”

“Yes, I have. The plan may not work, but it is worth trying. I wish you would call the beasts to your tree. I can depend upon you. You will not lose your head. You will have to use your own skirt this time, but for goodness’ sake, don’t lose it. Some one must be presentable when we get to camp.”

“See here, Harriet, I positively forbid your taking any further chances. You have had enough narrow escapes to-day as it is.”

“There will be no particular danger for me, Miss Elting. You will be in more danger than I shall be when the plan really begins to work. Will you call the bulls over to your tree?”

“Yes. But I warn you I shan’t be a party to any more foolishness.”

Harriet made no reply. She scanned the orchard about her, finally fixing her eyes upon a tree with low-hanging limbs, situated several rods farther down the orchard and away from the road. The girl nodded, as though in answer to some question she had asked of herself.

“Now I am ready. I have removed my skirt,” called the guardian. “What next?”

“Wait a moment.” Harriet clambered down the tree a little way, placing herself in a position where she could jump without loss of time. “Now wave your skirt, please.”

Miss Elting leaned down from her position in the tree and began swinging her skirt slowly back and forth. The result was immediate and startling. With bellows of rage, three savage bulls with lowered heads charged the blue skirt. It seems that these animals were not particular as to color. Blue was every bit as aggravating as red to them.

Harriet, the instant the beasts began charging, had dropped fearlessly to the ground. The bulls had not observed her.

“Harriet!” screamed Margery.

Harriet gave no heed to the cry of alarm. Instead she ran with all speed farther down the orchard, casting apprehensive glances over her shoulder now and then. A cry of warning from Miss Elting told her that the bulls had turned and were charging her. Harriet gave one quick glance over her shoulder, then leaped for a tree, up which she clambered with agility. She was none too soon, for, by the time she had cleared the trunk, the bulls met at the tree with horns clashing. For a moment they turned their attention to each other and then backed away and looked up at their intended victim.

“Miss Elting!” called the girl.

“Yes?”

“I am going to decoy the bulls as far away from you as possible. When you hear me scream you are all to climb down from the trees and run for the road fence. I’ll try to hold the ugly beasts here while you are making the dash. But run for your life. Don’t you dare to fall down.”

“All of us?” questioned the guardian apprehensively.

“Yes, please.”

“But, Harriet—suppose that we do get safely away—how are you going to leave the orchard?”

“I have thought of a way to do it,” Harriet assured the guardian. “The danger, now, is in so many of us being here. When I scream the first time you are to run. When you get safely over the fence you are to give me the signal ‘hoo-e-e-e-e.’ I will know, by that, that you are safe. When I give you a second call, after you are in the highway, try to attract the attention of the bulls. That will be my chance to make a dash for the nearest fence.”

“I don’t like your plan,” objected the guardian. “You are taking too great a risk.”

“It is the only way we can get away from here before night,” argued Harriet. “Even then, we should find it difficult to escape, for I think the beasts would camp right under these trees. They are determined to get us. I’m going to fool them. Now, call them!”

The guardian did so. The animals did not show any immediate inclination to move. So Miss Elting cautiously got down to the ground. That was all that was necessary. The beasts charged her. The guardian lost no time in scrambling into the tree. In the meantime Harriet had again dropped to the ground and was running at the top of her speed. She was still within easy reach of the voices of her companions, though out of their sight.

“Where are they?” she called.

“Right here,” answered the guardian.

“All right. Don’t try to keep them there. I am not afraid.”

“We have no desire to, I assure you, Harriet. But do be careful.”

Harriet was still on the ground. She moved a little farther down through the orchard, getting out where the trees were less thick, so as to be still within sight of the beasts she was hoping to lure away from the trees that held her companions. The bulls did not appear to see her, so Harriet stripped off her own skirt and began waving it at them. It was several moments later when the bulls discovered her and then they started for her without loss of time.

“Run!” screamed Harriet. “Run! Don’t make a sound to attract their attention.” She adopted her own advice and started down through an aisle of apple trees, her feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground. The girl was flaunting her skirt over her head. She heard bellows of rage off toward the trees in which her companions were perched. The girl halted. A few seconds later she saw the beasts coming. Instead of immediately taking to a tree Harriet began running again, still waving the skirt high above her head.

Harriet heard Tommy give a little scream.It was quickly suppressed. Undoubtedly Miss Elting had sharply rebuked the terrified little girl. Harriet did not pause again. This was her last chance to get the bulls away from the trees that held her companions. Their safety depended upon her doing so. She was determined to succeed, even at the imminent risk of losing her own safety. The animals did not seem to be gaining on her, but all at once they put on a great burst of speed. Harriet darted sideways, then straight ahead again. This time she leaped out into the open, flaunting the skirt, tantalizing the ugly beasts, resorting to every artifice she could think of to take their attention from Miss Elting and the other girls.

Harriet succeeded beyond her expectations. She also succeeded in enraging the beasts far more than she had hoped to do.

Now they were getting too close for safety, so Harriet darted in among the trees, followed by the three savage, bellowing bulls. She grasped the first low-hanging limb that she came to, and swung herself up into a tree. A pair of sharp horns caught the end of the skirt, rending it nearly to the waist. Harriet clung desperately to the skirt. She did not propose to lose it if she could help doing so. Jerking the skirt away she climbed higher and, bracing herself, gazed down triumphantly.

“That’s the time I fooled you, didn’t I?” she taunted. Leaning forward the girl waved the skirt. She reached down far enough to flaunt the skirt full in the face of the nearest animal. He bellowed his rage and pawed the dirt. She continued to aggravate him. If she could only keep them all there until her companions reached the highway!

“Hoo-e-e-e-e!” sounded the distant, long-drawn call of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

“Oh, they’re safe!” cried Harriet joyfully. For a moment she closed her eyes and clung panting to the trunk of the tree. After resting a few moments she cautiously drew on her skirt and fastened it, three pairs of red, evil eyes observing her threateningly. Then she climbed to the topmost branches of the apple tree, hoping to get high enough to obtain a glimpse of her companions.

“I might have known that a tree with such low boughs would not be high enough for that,” she muttered. “But I’ll call.”

Listening she heard the “Hoo-e-e-e!” of Miss Elting again.

“Hoo-e-e-e-e-e-e! Hoo-e-e-e-e!” answered Harriet Burrell.

In response the others began shouting. The bulls did not appear to be interested. One of them lay down.

“My goodness! I do hope they aren’t going to stay here the rest of the day,” cried Harriet. “I don’t know what I shall do in that event.”

She now tried Tommy’s plan and began pelting the animal that had lain down with apples. It took very little of this sort of treatment to bring the beast to his feet. He leaped up with a bellow and began pawing up the dirt, sending showers of it over his companions.

Harriet chuckled.

“Now, if only Miss Elting will attract their attention. I think I had better try to hide myself and keep quiet.” This she did. She could hear the shouts and yells of her companions. They were setting up a great racket off there in the road, doing their utmost to draw the attention of the animals away from Harriet.

After fully five minutes of this one of the bulls walked off with his head in the air. He stood a moment with head still erect, gazing off toward the highway. Suddenly he started on a run. The other two bulls followed him with their gaze for a few moments, then they, too, started away at a moderate trot.

“The plan has worked! It has worked!” cried Harriet in triumph, under her breath. “Oh, I do hope they get far enough away. I must crawl down so as to be ready for my bigspring. This is almost equal to a Spanish bull fight, except that I haven’t any barbs to stick into them.”

The girl crept cautiously to the ground. She stood at the foot of the tree, shielding her body by its trunk, peering around the tree at the running bulls. They were headed straight toward the road fence, traveling more rapidly now.

In order to reach the fence at the side of the field, Harriet would be obliged to go out into the open, where, if the animals turned, she would be sure to be discovered.

A cry from her companions told her that the time for action on her part had arrived. Without an instant’s hesitation Harriet Burrell started for a fence which stood to the eastward of her place of refuge. A few moments later she had cleared the orchard and reached the open field. She saw the three bulls pawing the ground by the roadside fence in the distance. Her companions were standing in the middle of the road waving their skirts at the animals, not daring to get close to the fence.

“Run! Run, Harriet!” screamed Miss Elting.

As though they had understood the meaning of the guardian’s warning, the bulls wheeled sharply. They saw the fleeing figure of theMeadow-Brook Girl and, leaving Miss Elting and her party, charged straight across the field towards Harriet, while the latter was still some distance from the fence towards which she was running.

“Run! Oh, run!” came the voice of Miss Elting in a terrified wail. “Run!”

Suddenly, Harriet, who had turned to glance over her shoulder to measure the distance between herself and her pursuers, stumbled and plunged headfirst into a little depression in the ground.

A scream rose from her horrified companions.

“She’ll be killed!” wailed Hazel, covering her eyes to shut out the sight.

“Thave her!” screamed Tommy. The little girl sprang forward, scrambled over the fence and, had she, too, not fallen would have dashed down the field to Harriet Burrell’s assistance, utterly regardless of her own peril. The guardian climbed over the fence and had placed a firm grip on the little girl before the latter could get to her feet. MissElting fairly dragged Tommy back to the fence and assisted her over.

“She’s up again!” cried Hazel. “Oh, hurry, hurry!” Her voice rose to a piercing wail.

Harriet had gotten to her feet. She cast one frightened look over her shoulder, then continued to run towards the fence. They saw that she limped a little. Nor was the girl running as fast as before her fall. The three bulls had gained considerably during the few seconds that Harriet had been down. They were now charging with lowered heads, bunched closely together, this time as though determined that their victim should not escape them.

Just ahead of her, Harriet had seen a ditch, deep and broad, made for the purpose of draining the land. Instantly a plan formed in her active mind. She could not hope to win the race for life by running straight ahead now that the beasts had gained so much on her.

“She’s tiring! They’ll get her!” moaned Hazel.

“Why didn’t you let me go?” screamed Tommy, beside herself with anxiety.

The guardian did not answer. Her eyes, wide and staring, were following every movement of the fleeing girl and the pursuing bulls.

Harriet stopped short, bending over in a crouching position.

“She’s going to try to trick them! Oh, what courage!” breathed Miss Elting.

“Look! Thee her now!” shouted Tommy, with a note of triumph in her strained voice.

The animals were fairly upon Harriet. When it seemed as though their horns were touching her, the girl leaped obliquely into the ditch. They saw her run, splashing along in it for a few rods, then spring to the bank on the same side from which she had jumped in.

The watchers saw something else too. The bulls, so intent upon reaching their victim, had taken no notice of the ditch. Perhaps they had been charging with closed eyes, as many bulls do. At any rate the leading beast flung himself headlong into the ditch. The others braced themselves with their front feet and went sliding into the ditch on top of their leader, digging furrows with their hoofs in the soft dirt.

Harriet Burrell’s ruse had been successful. She spoke no word, but a glint of triumph flashed into her eyes as she cast a quick glance at the floundering animals, then ran straight toward her companions. This time there was no limping, no lessening of speed. She had covered less than half the distance before two of the animals that had slid into the ditch had recovered themselves and began looking about for the prey that had eluded them.

The slender figure of the Meadow-Brook girl, they soon discovered, was racing across the field. The two bulls clambered out of the ditch and charged again. Now that they were in the open field it was a race that would go to the fleetest. No tricks would avail Harriet this time. She knew that her safety depended on outrunning her pursuers. Had Harriet not been an athletic girl she would have succumbed long before. As it was she ran at a wonderful rate of speed. The shouts of her companions, though heard but faintly, encouraged her, for Harriet’s mind was on her work.

The ruse practiced by Harriet had given her the lead in the race. Miss Elting, however, saw that the bulls were gaining on the plucky girl.

“Girls,” she said sharply, “remain where you are.” With that she climbed to the top of the fence and leaped over into the field. It was her idea that even though Harriet did succeed in reaching the fence, the girl might not have sufficient vitality left to enable her to climb over it.

Harriet, as she drew near, discovered the guardian on her side of the fence and divined the latter’s purpose. The girl motioned for Miss Elting to get back. The guardian shook her head and remained where she was.

“Go back! Go back! I’m all right,” cried Harriet breathlessly.

The bulls were gaining rapidly. They were now but a few rods behind Harriet Burrell. She put on more speed after one last look over her shoulder while Tommy and Hazel were shouting their encouragement.

“You will be caught. Quick!” gasped Harriet, as she drew rapidly near to the guardian. “Oh, please hurry back to the road!”

Miss Elting did not move. Harriet dashed up beside her and stopped short. Miss Elting grasped the girl’s arm. Harriet pulled herself free.

“Not an inch till you get over,” declared the girl.

The guardian glanced at her questioningly, then vaulted the fence. Harriet followed her. But ere Harriet had touched the ground on the other side, two sharp-horned heads crashed into the fence. Harriet sank down at the side of the road breathless and exhausted.

Miss Elting pulled the girl to her feet.

“Throw your shoulders well back and inhale deeply!” she commanded. She then led Harriet slowly up and down the road for a few moments. Harriet’s heavy respirations soon moderated, and ten minutes later her breathing was almost normal.

“I think we had better wait here. Jane will be along looking for us if we do not get to our camping place by night. Do you feel exhausted?” asked Miss Elting.

“A little weak in the knees, that’s all,” answered Harriet. “I shall be ready to move in a few minutes. I don’t want to stay here. We must try to catch up with the boys.”

“No. I shall not allow it. Yon have done quite enough for one day—quite enough to tire out the strongest man. Do you really think you can stand it to walk slowly?”

“Of course I can,” answered Harriet brightly. “See, I still have some sprint left in me.” Harriet ran up and down the road, vaulting the fence on the opposite side of it.

“You have indeed,” laughed Miss Elting. It was the first laugh that had been heard in some time. “You are the most remarkable girl I’ve ever known, or ever shall know. Now we had better decide on which way we shall go. I think the shorter way will be to skirt the orchard and continue on across the fields. We shan’t try the orchard again.”

All the girls agreed with the guardian. They had had quite enough of that particular orchard. Following the road for a short distance they came to the adjoining field, which they entered and continued on their journey. The afternoonwas now well advanced. Miss Elting had left a mark on the fence to inform Jane of their route, in case she should come back to look for them. This with the time of their passing would give Jane an idea when to expect them at the place stretched for the camp.

As they proceeded, Harriet’s strength returned to her. By the time they had walked two miles from the scene of their recent exciting experiences she had fully recovered from her recent exhaustion. Tommy, now that she had time to think about herself, was bewailing the loss of her skirt. She firmly declared she would not go to camp with only an underskirt on and announced her intention of sleeping out in the fields.

Six o’clock had arrived by the time they came out on the crest of a hill overlooking the valley in which they hoped to find Jane McCarthy and their camp. They scanned the valley eagerly.

“There’s our tent,” cried Hazel, pointing to a clump of trees to the left of them. No person was in sight, however. This they thought strange.

“I should not be surprised if everybody had gone in search of us,” said Miss Elting.

“I hope they don’t find uth,” spoke up Tommy.

“It will be a good opportunity for you to getinto camp without being seen,” suggested Harriet. “Come, let’s hurry down before some one does come.”

In order that their approach might be the more screened, they hurried over to a fence along which bushes and small trees grew. Sheltered by these they made their way down into the valley. But when they reached the road Tommy halted.

“Not another thtep,” she declared stubbornly. No amount of urging would induce her to go on. It was decided to leave her there while the rest continued on, Harriet promising to return to the little girl with another skirt as soon as possible. So Tommy hid in the bushes, peering out at the retreating forms of her companions.

A fire was smouldering in the Meadow-Brook camp. As the party of girls approached, four boys sprang up. They had been sitting about the fire. Their hats were off instantly, and they tried gallantly to force down the grins that persisted in appearing on their faces.

“Why, how do you do?” greeted Captain Baker of the Tramp Club.

“Where is Miss McCarthy?” questioned Miss Elting, pretending not to have observed the grins.

“She and a couple of the fellows went backto look for you,” spoke up Dill Dodd. “The pace was rather swift for you, even if you did get an early start, wasn’t it?” he chuckled.

“Yes, the pace was much swifter than you imagine,” answered the guardian frigidly.

“It is too bad that Miss McCarthy started out. She may spend a good part of the evening searching for you, not knowing that you have reached camp,” said the captain.

“She will know,” replied Harriet. “Jane will be back here soon.”

“How will she know?” frowned Davy.

“Oh, they have a wireless telegraph system, you know,” chuckled Sam.

“Yes, that is it! How did you guess it?” smiled Harriet.

“Don’t forget Tommy,” reminded Miss Elting.

Harriet flushed. She had indeed, forgotten all about the little lisping girl who was hiding in the bushes. Harriet hurried into the tent.

“That’s right. You are one girl short,” exclaimed George, suddenly discovering the absence of Miss Thompson. “Did she fall by the wayside? Was the pace too swift for her?”

“Young man, you talk too much,” objected Margery indignantly.

“I know it,” laughed George. “I can’t help it.”

Miss Elting’s face relaxed in a smile.

“WhereisMiss Thompson?” questioned Dill.

“Miss Thompson will be here soon,” replied the guardian.

Unnoticed by the boys Harriet slipped away, a bundle under her arm. She returned, a quarter of an hour later, accompanied by Tommy clad in her outside skirt and at peace with the world. They had barely reached the camp before the sound of a motor horn was heard. A few moments afterward Crazy Jane came tearing along the road and swung up to the camp.

“Here we are darlin’s,” she cried. “I got your message.”

“Message?” questioned the captain. “Who gave her a message, Fred?”

“Blest if I know,” answered Fred Avery, getting down from the car, removing his hat and scratching his head thoughtfully. “Wireless, I think.”

“What did I tell you?” nodded Sam.

The captain regarded Fred inquiringly.

“Oh, don’t ask me,” said the latter. “Miss McCarthy got out of her car about five miles back, walked to the fence then back to the car. She said her friends had passed there about four o’clock in the afternoon and were in camp then.”

“Well, what do you know about that?” wondered the captain. “Tell us how you did it?”

“A little bird told me,” chuckled Jane. The girls burst into a merry peal of laughter.

“Never mind. We won’t be as mean as you are,” declared Sam, springing up. “We will return good for evil.”

“Did you see the three bulls?” interrupted Jane. “I knew you would cross that orchard and I was afraid you’d meet them.”

“We did,” answered Miss Elting.

“What’s that?” The captain was interested instantly. “You say you met the bulls?”

“Yes. I might as well tell you,” explained Miss Elting. “You think we weren’t able to keep the pace we set for ourselves. I don’t want my girls to rest under that imputation, for I believe that they can completely outdistance you boys. We did meet the three bulls. Yes, they treed us. We were all up in apple trees when you boys passed singing ‘Forty-nine Blue Bottles.’”

Some one laughed. The captain frowned at the boy who had done so.

“You let us pass, and never called us to come to your assistance?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We preferred to get out of our scrape without appealing to our rivals, Captain Baker.”

“Whew! That was a fix. How’d you manage it?”

“Through the resourcefulness and courage of Harriet Burrell. Had it not been for her we undoubtedly should still be up in the trees in the apple orchard.”

“Please tell us about it.”

“Please don’t,” begged Harriet blushingly.

“Now that you have aroused our curiosity, it would be cruel not to tell us the whole story,” declared George.

“Yeth. Cruelty to animalth,” nodded Tommy.

Miss Elting, despite Harriet’s protestations, did tell the boys the story, giving the full credit for their rescue to Harriet Burrell, to whom it belonged. The boys listened in open-mouthed wonder.

“Fellows, we aren’t so much as we think we are,” declared the chief of the Tramp Club. “I propose three cheers for Miss Burrell. Now! Altogether! One, two, three!”

They gave three rousing cheers in which, Tommy’s shrill voice joined.

“Who’s all right?” demanded the captain at the end of the cheer.

“Miss Burrell’s all right!” yelled the Tramps. “For she’s a jolly good fel—low; For she’s a jolly good fellow,” sang the Tramps, as with hands on each other’s shoulders they marched through the camp, and out into the field on their way to their own camp, a short distance from that of the Meadow-Brook Girls.

Miss Elting was laughing merrily. Harriet’s face was crimson.

“I call that downright mean. They were making fun of me.”

“Why, Harriet! You know they were not,” rebuked Miss Elting. “It was the highest compliment those lads could pay.”

“It hath been a day of experientheth, hathn’t it?” Tommy questioned.

Harriet’s face was still flushed as she began to prepare the supper. Each member of the party now remembered that she had an appetite. While they were getting the meal Jane told them how the boys had gloated over having “walked the girls off their feet,” as the tramps expressed it. Jane announced triumphantly that she had been more than a match for them, which her companions could well believe, for Jane had a sharp tongue, besides being the possessor of a fund of Irish wit.

The smoke curling up from the other camp told the girls that the boys were busy getting their own supper. While eating, the guardian was obliged to go over the story of their experiences for the benefit of Jane, who interrupted now and then with humorous questions.

“Are the boys coming over this evening?” asked Margery, after they had finished supper and she and Tommy were washing the dishes.

“They did not say,” called Hazel. “It is safe to believe they will. I wonder if we can’t get rid of those boys? They make me nervous. It seems to me that they are perpetually on the scene whether one wants to see them or not.”

“Don’t be hard on the poor Tramp Club, Hazel,” laughed Harriet. “Remember you might still be stuck fast in the swamp had they not come to the rescue.”

“That’s so,” responded Hazel, with a sigh. “I never thought of that. They’re really not so bad after all.”

“I have met worse,” averred Harriet solemnly. Whereupon there was a general laugh.

The tramps had gathered the fuel for the Meadow-Brook Girls, stacking it up in piles of various lengths. The lads really were trying to make themselves useful to the young women. As yet there had been no outward evidence ofCaptain Baker’s assertion that some of them were “full of mischief.” The girls had piled the campfire high with wood and gathered about it when strains of music were heard.

“Oh, it ith a band, it ith a band,” cried Tommy.

“Coming to serenade us, probably,” announced Margery.

“No. I think it is some one playing on harmonicas,” answered Miss Elting after a moment of listening.

“It’s those boys,” groaned Hazel. “What mischief are they up to now?”

“I told you. They are coming over to serenade us. I think the serenade must be for Harriet.”

“They are carrying something on their shoulders too,” cried Harriet.

The girls, by this time, had run out to the edge of the camp and in the faint twilight were trying to make out what it was that the Tramp Club were carrying. As the boys drew nearer, the girls saw that it was a burlap sack. Four boys were bearing the sack on their shoulders. It appeared to be very heavy.

“Why, boys,” exclaimed Miss Elting. “Are you moving?”

“Yes, Miss Elting,” answered Captain Baker, doffing his hat. “We are moving, in a sense.We have come prepared to lay the spoils of our forage at the feet of beauty. Boys, dump the bag. You know where.”

One of the boys untied the string by which the mouth of the sack had been secured, then the two lads at that end stepped from under. Instantly the contents began rolling out at Harriet Burrell’s feet.

“Muskmelons!” gasped the girls.

Great golden and green muskmelons bumped to the ground. Harriet’s face was full of color.

“They—they aren’t all for me? Surely, you don’t think I am equal to eating all of those?” she gasped.

“They are laid at your feet,” answered George dramatically. “For you and your friends.”

“This is splendid,” declared the guardian, her face aglow with pleasure. “But we do not deserve so much. You have robbed yourselves. Where did you get them?”

“Of a farmer,” replied George promptly.

“You must take most of them for yourselves, boys,” urged Miss Elting. “We simply could not eat half of all that lot.”

“No. They are all for you. We have plenty. Besides, you’ll find some of them aren’t good, but out of the lot you may be able to get enough for breakfast.”

“We can eat all night if nethethary,” announced Tommy. “Maybe we can eat them all before we go on to-morrow.”

“One melon apiece will be quite enough for us, my dears,” reproved Miss Elting. “Won’t you join us in our feast, boys?”

The young men shook their heads.

“They’re yours,” replied the captain, his eyes on Harriet as he said it. “I brought you some salt, too,” he added, drawing a piece of newspaper from his pocket. “Perhaps you like salt on your melons.”

“You are very thoughtful,” smiled Miss Elting. “I think we have salt. How about it, Jane?”

“We have a whole bag of it.”

“We will take yours, thank you,” smiled Harriet. “It is much finer salt than ours.”

“Yes, it’s the salt the farmer over yonder uses to give to his sheep,” interjected Sam. “We borrowed some from him.”

Miss Elting laughed a little at this blunt speech.

“You are very funny, boys!” she said. “But we are grateful to you. I don’t know how we shall be able to repay you.”

“We have shared your hospitality—your bounteous hospitality,” answered the captain. “We wished to make some slight return.”

“What shall we do with what melons are left over?” asked Miss Elting.

“Carry them on with you. You have a car in which to transport your stuff.”

“I suppose we had better do that,” mused the guardian. “When we reach the next camping place we shall insist on entertaining you at our camp. We greatly appreciate this treat.”

“Thank you,” said George Baker, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Shortly afterwards Captain Baker rose from where he had been sitting and with an uneasy look on his face announced that they must go. With his fellows he hurriedly left the camp, not even taking the melon sack along. They were seen no more that night.

The girls noted Baker’s embarrassed manner and thought it strange that the boys should have left so abruptly. They were at a loss to understand it.

“I am glad they have left the melons, anyway,” declared Harriet.

“Yes, wasn’t that lovely of the boys to bring the fruit to us?” nodded Miss Elting. “They are really nice boys. I am rather glad that we met them.”

“You may change your mind before we have finished with them,” replied Harriet, with an enigmatical smile.

“So I've Caught You at It?”“So I've Caught You at It?”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“I can’t really explain. But I feel rather than know that those young men are ready to play tricks. They’d better not try any of them or we shall make them regret that they ever played tricks on the Meadow-Brook Girls.”

“Aren’t the melonth delithiouth?” breathed Tommy. She was now eating her second melon. The other girls were enjoying theirs equally well.

“Yes,” agreed Miss Elting. “The finest I ever ate. They must have cost the boys quite a sum of money, even though melons are cheap in the country. I——”

“Thomebody ith coming,” warned Tommy.

“The boys are returning, I presume,” smiled Miss Elting. But instead of the boys they were surprised to see a strange man striding into camp. He was plainly a farmer. He wore his whiskers long and his trousers were tucked in the tops of his boots. His face did not bear a pleasant expression.

“So I’ve caught you at it, eh?” he said sarcastically.

“What do you mean?” demanded the guardian rising hastily.

“You know well enough what I mean. In the first place, you are trespassing on my premises.”

“We have permission to camp here,” interjected Jane.

“Who gave it?”

“The farmer who owns this land.”

“I happen to own this land, and I haven’t given any tramps permission to camp on it.”

“Then some one must have played a trick on me,” declared Crazy Jane. “Wait till I get sight of that man again.”

“We are very sorry, sir, but we are wholly innocent of trespassing. We are not tramps, either. Of course we are willing to pay you for the privilege of camping here to-night. What do you consider a fair price?”

“Wal, I reckon about seventy-five cents will be all right for the camping.”

Miss Elting handed the money over to him.

“I am sorry to have put you to all this trouble, but we supposed we had permission to stay here over night.”

“Thay,” questioned Tommy. “You are a rich man, aren’t you?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you thhould be.”

“By the way, ladies, there is another little matter that you’ll have to fix up before we go any further.”

The guardian and the girls glanced inquiringly at their mercenary visitor.

“What do you mean?”

“Them melons,” answered the farmer, indicating the fruit with a nod.

“I don’t understand you, sir.” The guardian was plainly perplexed. Harriet was smiling broadly. She thought she understood now.

“The melons you stole from my field.”

“Stole from your field?” gasped Miss Elting.

“Yes.”

“Sir, you insult us! We have stolen neither melons nor anything else. I demand that you leave this camp instantly. We shall not endure such accusations.”

“You didn’t steal them, eh?”

“No, we didn’t,” answered Jane, who had stepped forward.

“Then where did you get them?”

The girls looked at one another. No one spoke. None wished to place the blame on the Tramp Club. The girls now began to understand the hurried departure of Captain Baker and his friends. Miss Elting saw that there was only one course to pursue under the circumstances.

“I can’t tell you where we got the melons, sir, but we didn’t steal them. How much are the melons worth?”

“Why?” queried the farmer, scenting a bargain.

“We intend to pay for them,” answered Harriet coldly.

“How many melons were there?” asked the farmer, more blandly.

“Two dozen,” Harriet replied.

“That’ll be about four-eighty,” nodded the farmer.

“But that’s——”

“It’s cheaper than the risk of going to jail,” broke in the farmer meaningly.

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’sworse!” retorted Crazy Jane incisively.

Muttering under his breath, but failing tospeak 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. “Thefirst 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 Trampsfor 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 hadnot 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.

A strange figure stepped into the light of the campfire. It was the figure of an old woman, bent with age. Her face was yellow and wrinkled, her eyes, black and piercing. She hobbled a few steps toward them, using a long stick as though for support.

“Out with you, villains!” she screamed, brandishing the stick threateningly. “My curses be upon your vile heads! Rob, would you? You shall burn in the fire from theclouds,” she hissed, pointing to the spokesman. “And you,” pointing to another, “shall wither in the pit with the iron doors, where all evil doers shall come sooner or later. You shall perish as you deserve. Sybarina says it. So it shall be. Out with you!”

“It’s the Gipsy Queen,” screamed Hazel.

For a moment the tramps stood utterly dumbfounded. They realized that the old Gipsy was laying a curse upon them. More or less superstitious, they stood in considerable awe of Sybarina and her supposedly supernatural powers. The tramp who had pinioned Harriet’s arms behind her back involuntarily relaxed his hold. Harriet made a dash for freedom. In an instant her captor was at her heels.

“Don’t pay any attention to that old lunatic,” he shouted to his companions. “She can’t hurt you. Get the stuff and be quick about it.”

But he had reckoned without his host. Raising her head, Sybarina sent a long shrill call echoing across the fields. Even in the excitement of the moment Harriet realized that it was a signal. A second later the call was answered.

“Skip!” warned the leader of the tramps. “It’s Gipsies. We’ll have the whole lot to fight if we don’t light out!”

At this juncture five dark swarthy men came running across the fields. With one accord thetramps took to their heels. The Gipsies started in pursuit of them, but the tramps had a lead of several yards and fear lending wings to their feet, they soon outdistanced their pursuers who finally abandoned the chase and returned to where Sybarina stood, surrounded by the Meadow-Brook Girls and their guardian.

Harriet sprang eagerly forward to thank their rescuers, but Sybarina waved her aside. Turning to the Gipsy men she spoke a few sharp words in the Romany tongue. The men nodded, talked among themselves for a moment then turned and strolled off in the direction whence they had come.

“Oh, Sybarina!” cried Harriet disappointedly. “Why didn’t you let me thank them for chasing those tramps away?”

“I, their queen, have commended them. That is sufficient,” returned Sybarina proudly. “They need no thanks for obeying my commands.”

“Then we must thank you doubly,” smiled Harriet, holding out her hand to the old Gipsy. “What would we have done if you had not been near?”

“It is well,” replied Sybarina earnestly, taking Harriet’s hand in both of hers. “But you must come with Sybarina. You must not stay here alone this night. The bad men will returnagain. But Sybarina’s men will stay here and watch for them. You and your kind friends will go with Sybarina to her camp.”

“But how did you happen to find us?” questioned Miss Elting.

“Sybarina has eyes. Did those eyes not see the patteran (trail of grass)? Did she not read the message of the patteran that all of her tribe know? Where did you learn to make the patteran that leads the Gipsy toward the land where the sun goes down?”

“She means the grass that we dropped in the road,” explained Harriet.

The old woman nodded.

“The patteran,” she reiterated.

“Why,” laughed Harriet. “We did that so that our friend Jane McCarthy would know where we had gone.”

“Then there is Romany in your blood. None but the people of the Romany would think of such a thing. Where is the other princess?” questioned the queen, glancing about.

“Miss McCarthy has gone to meet her father,” Miss Elting informed the old woman. “But we have not thanked you enough for the great service that you have done us.”

“It is nothing. Did not the princess save Sybarina’s miserable life? The debt is still unpaid. Many summers will come, and manysummers will go, ere the debt is paid. Sybarina never will live to pay it. Her people will remember. The Romany has a long memory, princess. Come, pretty ladies, come to the camp of the Gipsy. It is not good that you should stay the night here. To-morrow night, yes, but not this night.”

“What do you say, girls?” questioned Miss Elting.

“Spend a night in a Gipsy camp?” asked Harriet.

“Yes.”

“I think that would be fine.”

“But, Sybarina, what of our own camp? Will not the men return and rob us?”

“I have told you. Sybarina’s people will be on guard. You need have no fear. And when the princess with the fair hair returns, she shall be led to the Gipsy camp. Come.”

“Wait please, until we fix our camp and leave a message for Miss McCarthy,” said Miss Elting.

So excited were the Meadow-Brook Girls at the prospect of spending a night in a Gipsy camp that they almost forgot the thrilling experiences through which they had passed. There were few preparations to be made. Miss Elting pocketed her revolver, though she had no idea that she would need it. She knew thatthe old Gipsy woman might be trusted; that a Gipsy never forgets a favor—nor a wrong. Sybarina felt under deep obligations to them for what they had done for her. By inviting them to her camp she was conferring upon them the highest possible mark of her regard, as the guardian who knew something of the wandering tribes of Gipsies was well aware.

The camp was some little distance from where the Meadow-Brook tent was pitched. A note for Jane was pinned to the tent flap on the same spot where she had pinned hers; then the party set out through the darkness. Not a man of the tribe was to be seen. The guardian asked no questions. She knew that Sybarina’s word was law and that keen eyes were upon the Meadow-Brook camp, that no marauders would be permitted to enter there that night. Sybarina led the way as if it were a familiar path, calling out now and then to warn the travelers of a root or a stone that lay unseen in the path they were following. How she was aware of the presence of the obstacles the girls could not imagine.

They came in sight of the dull glow of the Gipsy campfire after a quarter of an hour’s walking. Then as they stepped into the circle of light, many inquiring eyes were fixed upon them. There were dark-eyed, olive-complexioned womenof various ages, children clad in bright colors, some sitting under wagons eating bread and butter, others peering from the gaudily painted wagons, and still others lying asleep upon the ground just outside the circle. Horses might have been heard munching at the foliage out in the bushes, occasionally neighing or stamping. The fire crackled merrily. It was a bright but unfamiliar scene to the Meadow-Brook Girls.

Tommy and Margery were a trifle apprehensive.

“Where are we going to thleep?” questioned Tommy cautiously.

“I don’t know, dear,” returned Miss Elting. “Sybarina will provide a place when the time comes. We have our own blankets. I think we may sleep out of doors if we wish to do so. But we have a long evening before us yet. It is your opportunity to learn something of the life and habits of the Gipsies.”

“Thay, Mith Elting do—do you think it thafe to thtay here?” questioned Tommy.

“Perfectly so. Much more so than in our own camp this evening.”

Sybarina was brewing the tea with her own hands. Miss Elting stepped over to her.

“May I assist you?” she asked.

The Gipsy queen shook her head.

“Sybarina will make the tea for her friends, her good friends, the pretty ladies. Sybarina will have other guests this evening.”

“Oh, will you?” questioned the guardian, in a surprised tone.

“Yes. Pretty ladies will come to cross the Gipsy’s palm with silver. Sybarina will read the future and the past for them. Sybarina will read your future too, but you and your friends need not cross her palm with silver. Sybarina is your friend.”

Harriet had been an interested listener to the brief dialogue. She drew a little closer.

“I should like to learn to read the past and future, Sybarina. Will you teach me?” asked Harriet.

The old woman fixed her piercing eyes upon the eager face before her.

“The princess shall be taught to read the future this very night. The stars have said it.”

“I’m afraid I never could learn to read palms in one night,” laughed Harriet.

“The stars and the voices of the air will help you. Be not afraid. But you must be a Gipsy true.”

“How do you mean?”

“You must be like other Gipsies.”

“Oh! You mean dress like them?”

“Yes. After the tea you shall see.”

Tea was a most formal affair. Sybarina first took a sip from her own cup then passed the cup to the others, each girl taking a sip in turn, after which cups were served to each member of the party. By this time the other members of the tribe appeared to have lost interest in the visitors.

“My girls would know something of your people, Sybarina,” suggested Miss Elting after the formalities of the tea drinking had been finished and the girls had settled down to their own cups of tea.

She regarded her teacup frowningly, as though she were seeking light in the amber fluid.

“My daughters,” said the old woman. “It takes many years to earn the confidence of a Romany. You have done so in a hour. All are Gorgios to the Gipsy.”

“What ith a Gorgio?” piped Tommy.

“Any one not Romany is a Gorgio. Forever has the Gorgio hounded the Gipsy. The Gorgio thinks the Gipsy a thief, but the Gipsy is not a thief. The Gipsy has little history, my daughters, but the Gipsy dates back to antiquity, to the famed Kings of Egypt. He keeps his sacred tongue—the Romany. It is his secret language. Through it he can hold converse with the Romanys of the world. Ages and ages ago, the Romany was called a Jat. That was infar off India. Then came a bad king from Persia who stole ten thousand of them to make music for him. There they remained until nine hundred years after the Son of Man came, when they were taken captive again and held in bondage until at last they separated and journeyed to the far places of the world. To-day the Gipsy is the only free man who wanders the earth. He pays no tithes, he has no cares.”

“But you have a ruler, a head of all the Gipsies, have you not?” interjected Miss Elting.

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