"What?" Janet asked.
"The gipsy knowing I was fond of writing."
"No," said Janet, "it wasn't wonderful at all. There was a great ink stain on your finger."
CHAPTER 18
THE ADVENTURE OF THE OLD IRISHWOMAN
When they awoke the next morning the gipsies had gone—nothing remained of them but the burnt circle on the ground which any encampment makes and a little rubbish; but at the mouth of the boys' tent lay a bundle of sticks and two rabbits.
Kink looked at the rabbits with a narrow eye. "Better hurry up and get them eaten," he said, "or one of those policemen that Master Campbell is so fond of may be asking awkward questions. And it wouldn't be a bad thing," Kink added, "to have a good look round and see if there's anything missing."
"Oh, Kink," said Janet, "how horrid you are to be so suspicious! And after all their gratitude, too!"
"Yes," said Kink; "but gipsies is gipsies. They were gipsies before they were grateful, and I reckon they'll be gipsies after."