“And you succeeded beautifully,” put in her brother. “Come on over to our desolate abode. Maybe you can look at the place where the dog biscuits were kept and tell what kind of an ostrich ate them.”
“I have it!” suddenly cried Natalie, while they all prepared to walk to the other camp.
“What—the dog biscuits?” demanded Jack.
“No, but I know who has been at your camp. It’s some of the Gypsies—that’s why they were so excited to-day when we had our fortunes told. They knew we girls were friends of yours, and they thought we had come to spy on them.”
“Well, we hope you are friends of ours,” spoke Jack, “but as for the Gypsies suspecting that you had come to spy on them, because our camp had been looted, as Nat puts it, why it couldn’t be. They must have known you made an early start, and they didn’t come to our camp—if it was they who did it—until after you had left here. No, you’ve got to think up a better reason than that.”
“Well, I’m sure the Gypsies were at your camp,” insisted Mabel.
“A woman’s reason—because,” laughed Jack.
They were soon at the boys’ camp, and in the gathering dusk the girls were shown where a box containing the provisions had been broken open, and a considerable quantity of supplies taken.
“Did they only take victuals?” asked Mrs. Bonnell.
“I guess so,” answered Phil. “We didn’t look after we found that our grub—I beg your pardon, ladies, I should say our choice viands—were taken,” and he bowed low.