However, the incident effectually called Gee Gee’s attention away from Bobby, and the latter heard nothing more of her fault. But it seemed that the connection between the teacher and Margit Salgo was not founded upon love. There was some other reason than affection that made Gee Gee care for the half-wild Gypsy girl. Some of the others whispered that Gee Gee must have done some awful thing, and Margit knew it and so held the teacher in her power. But that, of course, was a silly explanation of the mystery.
It was plain, too, that the teacher would not let Margit out of her sight on the street. They came and went to school together, walking side by side. At the place where Miss Carrington had boarded so long, nobody ever saw Margit in the yard, but Miss Carrington was with her.
One might have thought the girl a prisoner.
Bobby was hurrying over to Laura’s house with her books, one morning, wishing for a little help in one of the problems to be discussed that day, and she started through the grounds surrounding the Widow Boyce’s house, from the back street.
Suddenly she saw a man crouching in the shrubbery. Weeks before she had seen a man spying about the house, and believed him to be one of the Gypsies. Now Bobby halted and spied on the Peeping Tom himself.
In a moment she saw that it was the man with the gold rings in his ears whom Eve had told her was Jim Varey, the husband of the Gypsy Queen. He was lurking there for no good purpose, that was sure.
Having carried Margit off from Farmer Sitz’s house in the middle of the night, the Gypsies would doubtless attempt to steal the girl away from Gee Gee, as well. The school teacher had evidently not settled with the Romany folk. They had not yet got money through the girl, as Margit had said they hoped to do.
Bobby turned back toward the street, intending to look for a policeman, or for some neighbor; but as she did so she heard wheels grating against the curb, and there stood a covered wagon, with two sleek horses attached, and another Gypsy man driving them.
The man on the seat of the wagon whistled, and Jim Varey raised his hand as a signal. Then the latter darted around the corner of the house toward the front.
These manœuvers were only too plain to Bobby. There was not time to look for a policeman—and, in any case, an officer was hard to find in the Hill section of Centerport.