Gertrude Morrison - The Girls of Central High on Track and Field

“Very bad. She is a fraud,” whispered Mother Wit. “And look out! they think we have seen the girl who ran away and they will try to pump us about her.”

“That’s what I thought,” declared Jess.

“Know all about your past and future, Laura?” asked Bobby Hargrew.

“Dear me! it makes me shiver to think of it,” said Nellie. “Does she stir a cauldron, and call on the spirits of the earth and air?”

“She calls on nothing but her own shrewd sense,” replied Laura, shortly. “And she can tell you really nothing. Take my advice, girls, and don’t try it.”

“Oh!” cried the disappointed Bobby “I did so hope she could tell me – more.”

“Don’t you believe a thing she told you about trouble coming to you at school,” said Eve, quietly.

“You needn’t worry about that, Bobs,” drawled Dora Lockwood. “You know you are always getting into trouble with Gee Gee.”

“Maybe she could tell me how to circumvent her,” sighed Bobby.

“You’ll never get the best of Miss Grace Carrington,” said Jess, decidedly; “so give up all hope of that .”

“Let the little lady try it – do,” whined one of the women. “She can learn much, perhaps. Because one fails, that is no reason why another should not succeed.”

“I’d like to try it,” said Bobby, earnestly.

Laura whispered: “What they want to find out is if we saw the girl who has run away from them, and if we know where she is. Be careful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Laura replied. “She caught me with her questions. She knows I saw the girl. I told her nothing else.”

The queen came to the opening of the tent and beckoned to Bobby. She seemed to know instinctively which girl was anxious to try her arts.

“Oh, Bobby,” whispered Dorothy. “Maybe you’d better not – as Laura says.”

“I want to see for myself,” said the other girl, doggedly.

And she moved toward the Gypsy’s tent. Laura gathered the other girls about her. One of the women was so near that she could overhear anything said louder than a whisper.

“I want to get away from here at once,” said Laura, quietly. “Let us buy any little things they may have for sale, and go on our way. We can get away better now when there are only two men in the camp than we can when those other three – and the bloodhound – get back.”

“Oh, mercy me!” gasped Jess. “I had forgotten about the bloodhound.”

“Hush!” murmured Laura. “Don’t let that woman hear you.”

But it was evident that the Gypsy woman had heard. She uttered a sentence or two in Romany and the two men whom the girls had seen before at the camp appeared. They did not come near, but sat by the roadside that passed through the hollow, and filled their pipes and smoked. It was quite evident that they were on guard.

“We are prisoners!” whispered Nellie, seizing Eve’s arm.

“Sh!” admonished Laura again. “Don’t let them see that you’re afraid. That will only make them the bolder.”

But all of the six girls outside the Gypsy’s tent were more than a little disturbed. The situation did seem serious.

The other woman had been stirring the great pot of stew. It certainly did throw off a delicious odor. Each girl carried a lunch box and they had been about to hunt a pretty spot, near a spring, and satisfy their appetites. Now the woman at the cauldron, who looked a deal like an old witch, turned and waved her spoon, grinned, and said something to the half-frightened visitors.

The younger Gypsy woman interpreted:

“She says you can have some dinner, if you will stay.”

“My goodness!” whispered Dora. “I could not eat any of that stuff.”

“Some of the Gypsies are good cooks – and that smells delicious,” Eve said.

Laura shook her head, but tried to speak kindly. “We could not stop long enough to eat with you,” she said. “We must go just as soon as the other girl comes out.”

“Better think twice of it, little lady,” said the Gypsy woman. “When you eat the bread and salt of the Romany folk they remain your friends.”

“And chase you with bloodhounds if you try to get away,” spoke Nellie, unguardedly.

It was an unfortunate remark. The woman must have heard it. She turned and spoke to the men again. They rose and stood ready to oppose the departure of the girls of Central High.

Even Laura and Eve felt their courage waver at this. The latter knew that there were no farms near – no inhabited dwellings. The nearest family must be at least two miles away. And this road was lonely at best – and this time of year, when the farmers were just beginning to get their plows into the ground, everybody was busy and there would not be much driving on any of the ridge roads.

“What can we do?” moaned Dorothy Lockwood.

“Will they dare keep us here, Eve?” demanded her twin.

At this strained point in the proceedings there was a sudden excitement among the Gypsies. One of the men started up the road in an easterly direction. The girls looked in some worriment of mind to see what was to happen.

“They’ve caught the girl!” muttered Jess.

“No, But the dog’s coming back,” said Laura.

There appeared almost at once the three men who had hunted with the bloodhound – and the hound himself. He was more ferocious-looking close to than at a distance. The six girls shrank together when he passed them, his great dewlaps slobbering and dripping, and his red eyes glancing sullenly from side to side.

The Gypsies laughed when they saw fear so plainly displayed in the countenances of the six girls. The bloodhound was fastened to one of the wagon wheels, and then the Romany folk paid no particular attention to their visitors.

It was plain that they considered the girls would not go far when they saw that the dog could be unleashed and set upon their trail. Nellie Agnew began to cry, but Laura was growing angry.

“Just wait till Bobby comes out of that tent. I’m going to start right off along the road – ”

“You won’t ever dare to!” gasped Dora.

“Yes, I will. They won’t dare set a dog like that on us – ”

Just then the little boy they had first seen ran out of the other tent. He was evidently aiming for his father, who was a low-browed man with huge hoops of gold in his ears, and a ferocious mustache.

But the little one had to pass the dog. He saw him, gave a shriek of delight, and ran straight at the huge and savage-looking creature!

The girls were, for an instant, greatly startled. Then they were amazed to see the little fellow roll the bloodhound over and laugh and shriek in delight – while the dog nuzzled the baby and seemed to like the play.

“My goodness!” cried Jess. “That dog’s nothing but a bluff!”

“I believe you,” said Laura. “I’ve heard of a dog’s bark being worse than his bite; but in this case his appearance is a whole lot worse than his real nature. I guess they just keep him for his fearful looks and his ability to trail anything.”

“Girls included,” murmured Dora. “I don’t want him trailing me.”

The Gypsies had tried to call the little boy away from the huge dog. But they knew that the appearance of the hound would no longer strike terror to the hearts of their visitors.

Indeed, Laura, who was naturally unafraid of dogs, as she was of horses, went over to the big, ugly-looking brute, and patted his head. He raised up and looked at her, and his bloodshot eyes did have a fearful appearance; but he lapped her hand with his soft tongue – and that bogey was laid!

“Just as soon as Bobby comes out, we’ll go, girls,” said Laura, confidently. “They won’t dare lay a finger on us.”