“And what about my parents?”
“They stayed over at McGregor till yesterday afternoon, hoping to recover your body.”
“My body?”
“Yes. They are sure you were drowned. They have been dragging the river for you ever since you disappeared. Yesterday, your father had to leave. There’s a reward of one thousand dollars for your body.”
“Gee! I didn’t know I was worth that much.”
“Clarence,” continued Ben, “I’m sorry we’ve kept you. It isn’t all my fault. And I’m sorry about Dora. Pete is a born kidnapper; and he has more power than me. Anyhow, no matter what happens, so long as I’m alive I’ll see that no harm comes to that dear little girl.”
“Ben, you are a good fellow.” And Clarence shook Ben’s hand with vigor.
Within fifteen minutes the gypsies were on the road. They made only five or six miles that day, and about two hours before sunset pitched their tents in a clearing at the river side about fifteen miles north of Prairie du Chien.
Clarence, at the first opportunity, went to the river and looked about for a good place to swim. There was no need for a search. The suitable place was awaiting him. He had hardly got into his bathing suit when Ezra appeared and, saying little, followed him into the water.
Ezra was a good swimmer. He used a powerful overhand stroke.