“Nothing,” answered Blake for her, giving his friend a warning look. “Go on.”
“That’s all there is to it. The squire made out the warrant for the girl, who give the name Hadee, though whether it’s her right one or not I don’t know—it’s a heathen name, anyhow.”
“And you came here after her?” questioned Blake.
“Yes, havin’ heard there was Gypsies here.”
“And now you see you’re wrong?”
“Well, you say so. And it don’t exactly look like a Gypsy camp, either,” Mr. Jackson admitted. “Do you know where I can find ’em?”
“Not in the least,” Blake replied. “You’ll have to use your detective abilities. But I advise you to be a little more sure next time, before you make accusations. If I had not come along you might have frightened Miss Fuller.”
“I didn’t mean to,” murmured the man. “Well, I’ll go looking for this Hadee, though I don’t believe there’ll be much money left in th’ pocket-book when I git it,” and he started off, looking rather suspiciously at Natalie.
The voices of the other girls, and Mrs. Bonnell approaching through the woods, were heard now, and as they saw Natalie and Blake and the retreating constable Marie cried:
“Oh, what has happened? Is anything wrong?”