Part 22 (1/2)

Once she whispered to him: ”I can swim, Roberto.”

”Good! But I will carry you,” and he suddenly stooped, slung her across his shoulder as though she had been a feather-weight, and marched on through the water.

It was plain that the Gypsy boy knew this ford better than the drivers of the vans, for he found no spot that he could not wade through and carry Ruth, as well. It was nearly an hour before they reached the land.

The rain beat upon them and the wind soughed in the trees. It seemed to get darker and darker, yet Roberto never hesitated for direction, and setting Ruth down upon her own feet, helped her on till they came to a well-traveled road.

Not far ahead was a light. Ruth knew at once that it was a lamp s.h.i.+ning through the windows of some farmhouse kitchen.

”There they will take you in,” Roberto said. ”They are kind people. I am sorry I could not bring away your own clothes and your bag. But it could not be, Missy.”

”Oh! you have been so good to me, Roberto!” she cried, seizing both of his hands. ”However can I thank you--or repay you?”

”Don't be too hard on Gypsy--on my old grandmother. She is old and she is a miser. She thought she could make your friends pay her money. But now we will all leave here in the morning and you shall never be troubled by us again.”

”I will do nothing to punish her, Roberto,” promised Ruth. ”But I hope I shall see you at the Red Mill some time.”

”Perhaps--who knows?” returned the youth, with a smile that she could see in the dark, his teeth were so white. ”Now run to the door and knock. When I see it opened and you go in, I will return.”

Ruth Fielding did as she was bidden. She entered the gate, mounted the porch, and rapped upon the kitchen door. The moment she looked into the motherly face of the woman who answered her knock, the girl knew that her troubles were over.

CHAPTER XVII

OFF FOR SCHOOL AGAIN

There was much bustle about the old Red Mill. The first tang of frost was in the air, and September was lavishly painting the trees and bushes along the banks of the Lumano with crimson and yellow.

A week had elapsed since Ruth and Helen had been prisoners in the Gypsies' encampment, up in the hills. That week had been crowded with excitement and adventure for the chums and Tom Cameron. They would all three have much to talk about regarding the Gypsies and their ways, for weeks to come.

Uncle Ike Cameron had roused up the County Sheriff and all his minions, before Ruth appeared at Severn Corners, driven by the kindly farmer to whose door Roberto had brought her through the darkness and rain.

Constable Peck, having searched the Gypsy camp, believed that Ruth must have escaped from the Romany people at the same time as Helen.

Therefore, it was not until Ruth's complete story was told, that actual pursuit of the Gypsies by the county authorities was begun.

Then Queen Zelaya and her band were not only out of the county, but out of the state, as well. They had hurried across the border, and it was understood that the tribe had gone south--as they usually did in the winter--and would be seen no more in New York State--at least not until the next spring.

The three friends had much to tell wherever they went during this intervening week. They had had a fine time at ”Uncle Ike's,” but every adventure they had was tame in comparison to those they had experienced on the road overlooking Long Lake.

They wondered what had become of Roberto--if he had returned to his people and risked being accused of letting Ruth escape. Ruth discussed this point with her friends; but one thing she had never mentioned to either Helen, or her brother Tom.

She did not speak to them of the wonderful pearl necklace she had seen in the old Gypsy queen's possession. There was a mystery about that; she believed Zelaya must have stolen it. The man with the wicked face had intimated that it was part of some plunder the Gypsies had secured.

Now, Ruth and Helen--and Tom as well--were ready to start for school again. This was the last morning for some time to come, that Ruth would look out of her little bedroom window at the Red Mill.

She always left the beautiful place with regret. She had come to love old Aunt Alvirah so much, and have such a deep affection and pity for the miserly miller, that the joy of going back to Briarwood was well tempered with remorse.

The night before, Uncle Jabez had come to Ruth, when she was alone, and thrust a roll of coin in her hand. ”Ye'll want some ter fritter away as us'al, Niece Ruth,” he had said in his most snarling tone.