“I don’t see how he could be,” her husband said. “Of course, it may have happened that the children’s dog was stolen by Gypsies, just as it may have been Gypsies that went into Mrs. Ransom’s store and took her queer box and other things. But it would be too much to have it happen that the Gypsies camping at the upper end of this lake are the same ones who took the Curlytops’ pet dog.”
“Well, it could happen,” said Ted’s mother.
“Yes, it could,” agreed her husband, “but I don’t believe it will. I’m afraid Skyrocket will never be found, though I wish he would, for our Curlytops miss him so much.”
“We’ll know by this time to-morrow whether or not he is in the Gypsy camp,” said Uncle Ben. “We’ll start early in the morning, and make a trip of it. I have to go over to Cardiff to pick up Mr. Blake and Mr. Addison first.”
“Well, I hope you’ll find Skyrocket,” said Mr. Martin, as he went about the bungalow, locking up for the night. “But I’m afraid you will not, and the children will be very much disappointed.”
“I’ll try to give them a good time on the water, in case we don’t find their dog,” answered Uncle Ben.
All was still and quiet in the bungalow a little later. Every one was fast asleep, and I am quite sure the Curlytops, and perhaps Tom and Lola, were dreaming of going to the Gypsy camp and maybe having their fortunes told.
All of a sudden came a loud cry that awakened every one in Sunnyside.
“Oh, I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” shouted the voice of Ted Martin. “I’ve got him! He came back to me! He got away from the Gypsies and now he’s here!”
“Hush, Teddy! Hush, my dear!” called his mother from the next room. “Wake up! Wake up! You’re talking in your sleep!”