“I know not’ing of any young ladies,” grumbled the gypsy. “You make big mistake.”
“You do know!” cried Roger. “Now tell us the truth! Have you hurt those young ladies?”
“I know not’ing,” was all the gypsy replied. And, try their best, that was about all the two chums could get out of him.
Had the man not been covered by the pistols he would undoubtedly have shown fight, but he was too cowardly to attempt anything under the existing circumstances.
Not knowing what else to do with their prisoner, the two youths marched him down the road and to where they had left the automobile. Here they brought out a strong rope, and with this bound the gypsy’s hands and feet and tied him fast to one of the trees.
“I guess he’ll stay there until we get back,” was Dave’s comment. “Now then, are you going to tell us what became of those young ladies or not?” he questioned. But to this the gypsy merely shook his head and muttered something which neither of the young civil engineers could understand.
“I don’t believe that fellow is altogether right in his mind,” said Roger.
“Either that, Roger, or else he is shamming,” answered Dave. But Roger was right, the fellow was not more than half-witted.
Leaving their prisoner, the two chums lost no time in making their way along the side-road once more. They soon passed the point where they had first caught sight of the gypsy. Here the roadway became fairly good for a distance of several hundred feet, but beyond this were a number of large rocks, and the road seemed to come to an end in a mass of brushwood.
“Let us look around for wheel-tracks, Roger,” said Dave in a low voice.