“Then stop bothering your head about it, Lanky.”
“Guess I will,” answered the tall boy, resolutely.
“I told you that other business would come out all right, sooner or later; didn’t I?” Frank demanded.
“That’s straight goods, Frank.”
“And it did, you noticed, Lanky?”
“It sure did,” was the candid admission of the other; “but see here, Frank, with all your smartness, I don’t reckon you ever dreamed it’d happen the way it did, now?”
“Well, I should say not,” returned Frank, highly amused. “Why, I never even had the slightest idea that you meant to go back to town aboard that old tub of Ben Allison’s; or that a certain young lady would be a passenger, too. And as to expecting Ben to steer into a sunken snag, and knock Dora overboard, why, who’d ever dream of such a thing? And it all worked out as fine as silk for you. But you seem to be wanting to turn off the main road here, and take that one leading to Budd’s Corners?”
“I see you’re onto me, all right,” confessed Lanky. “Fact is, Frank, since we’re out for a little walk, I thought it wouldn’t matter much if so be we turned in the direction of the gypsy camp.”
“Oh! I’m willing enough, if you promise me you won’t go to prowling around when we strike there, so as to make the men folks notice us. Remember, Lanky, once we give that sharp old queen any reason to believe we’ve got an interest in what she’s got hidden away in that wagon, the game’s up.”
“I hold up my hand and promise you to be careful,” the tall boy returned, as he went through the performance. “But looky there what’s comin’ along back of us like a house afire!”