“Are you sure?” asked Uncle Ben, as he steered the boat out into the open lake, and pointed the bow toward Sunnyside. “There are lots of dogs that may look like Skyrocket, you know.”
“This was Skyrocket all right!” declared Tom. “I whistled to him and called his name.”
“And he wagged his tail, just like Skyrocket used to,” declared Lola. “And then Tom and I were going to run after the wagon and get your dog for you, but then our train came and we had to get on.”
“Oh, dear!” sighed Janet. “Then the gypsy has our dog.”
“Well, I told Mr. Whitter, the station agent, about it,” said Tom. “He said he’d try to find out where the Gypsy wagon was going, and then he’d let you know.”
“Do the gypsies ever camp near Cresco?” asked Uncle Ben.
“They used to,” said Tom. “They sold horses and the gypsy women told fortunes and they had a lot of dogs.”
“Well, it might be that your Skyrocket was taken from the woodshed that night by a prowling gypsy,” said Uncle Ben. “You can have your father write to Mr. Whitter, Ted, and ask if the gypsies are camping near Cresco this year. If they are we’ll go there and see if they have Skyrocket.”
“I hope they’ll be good to him,” murmured Janet.
“I wish he had jumped out of the gypsy wagon when you saw him,” said Ted.