“Oh, boys, you’ll do your best to find them?” said Mrs. Wadsworth, when they came in rather late and were ready to retire.
“You can rest assured of that, Mrs. Wadsworth,” answered Dave.
“We won’t give up until we have found them, or found out something about them,” broke in Roger. And then the lady kissed each of them affectionately. The strain had been terrible, and she looked ten years older than usual.
Dave and Roger had expected that no one would be around when they were ready to depart in the morning, for it was but a little after sunrise. But in this they were mistaken. Both Dave’s father and his Uncle Dunston had come down to see them off.
“I want to caution you about one thing,” said Dave’s parent. “You take care of yourselves, and if you do chance to run into those gypsies, or anybody else who has any connection with this crime, do your best to keep out of trouble.”
“We’ll be on our guard, Dad, don’t fear,” answered the son.
“Of course you are armed?” questioned Dunston Porter.
“Yes, we’ve each got a pistol, and Dave’s shotgun is under the back seat,” answered Roger. “You see, we weren’t going to take any chances,” and he smiled grimly.
“If you discover anything at all, send us word at once,” went on Dave’s father. “Use the telegraph or the telephone—whichever is handiest.”
“You can depend on it we will,” said Dave.