She left Helen to meet Tom when he came in through the sagging door at the top of the outside flight of stairs, and tiptoed back into that room where they had been frightened by the bat.
It was directly over the dining-room. The same chimney was built into each room. This thought gave Ruth's active mind food for further reflection.
The rumble of the men's voices continued from below. Tom and Helen followed her so softly into the room that Ruth did not hear them until they stood beside her. Tom touched her arm and pointed downward:
"Tramps?" he asked.
"Those Gypsies, I believe," whispered Ruth, in return.
Helen was just as scared as she could be, and clung tightly to Tom's hand. "Wish we could scare them away," suggested the boy, with knitted brow.
"Perhaps we can!" uttered Ruth, suddenly eager, and her brown eyes dancing. "Sh! Wait! Let me try."
She went to the paper-stuffed stovepipe hole, out of which the bat had fallen. Helen would have exclaimed aloud, had not Tom seen her lips open and squeezed her hand warningly.
"What is it?" he hissed.
"Don't! don't!" begged Helen. "You'll let those bats all out here——"