“If that big, bad Gypsy man doesn’t take us home pretty soon I shall have to sleep here, Sister,” she complained.
“You lie right down on this bench,” said Tess kindly, “and I will cover you up and you can sleep as long as you want to.”
So Dot did this. But Sammy was not at all sleepy. His mind was too active for that. He was prowling about the more or less littered van.
“Say!” he whispered to Tess, “there is a little window here in the front overlooking the driver’s seat. And it swings on a hinge like a door.”
“I don’t care, Sammy. I—I’m sleepy, too,” confessed Tess, with a yawn behind her hand.
“Say! don’t you go to sleep like a big kid,” snapped the boy. “We’ve got to get away from these Gyps.”
“I thought you were going to stay with them forever.”
“Not to let that Big Jim bang me over the head. Not much!” ejaculated Sammy fiercely. “If my father saw him do that—”
“But your father isn’t here. If he was—”
“If he was you can just bet,” said Sammy with confidence, “that Big Jim would not dare hit me.”