“Oh, stop! Stop!” she called. “Miss—Miss Gypsy! We’ve got something for you! Why, Dot, you are not hollering at all!”
“I—I’m trying to,” wailed the smaller girl. “But I do so hate to make Alice give up her belt.”
The Gypsy turned his car into a cross street ahead and disappeared. When Scalawag brought the Corner House girls to that corner the car was so far away that the girls’ voices at their loudest pitch could not have reached the ears of the Romany folk.
“Now, just see! We’ll never be able to give that bracelet back if you don’t do your share of the hollering, Dot Kenway,” complained Tess.
“I—I will,” promised Dot. “Anyway, I will when it’s your turn to wear the bracelet.”
The little girls reached home again at a time when the whole Corner House family seemed disrupted. To the amazement of Tess and Dot their sister Ruth had departed for the mountains. Neale had only just then returned from seeing her aboard the train.
“And it’s too late to stop her, never mind what Mr. Howbridge says in this note,” cried Agnes. “That foolish Cecile! Here is the second half of her telegraph message,” and she read it aloud again:
“Until afternoon; will wire you then how he is.”
“Crickey!” gasped Neale, red in the face with laughter, and taking the two telegrams to read them in conjunction:
“Arrived Oakhurst. They will not let me see Luke until afternoon. Will wire you then how he is.”