Nothing else disturbed the Curlytops or the others in the bungalow that night, and in the morning after breakfast they started for Cardiff, there to get Mr. Blake and Mr. Addison, and then go on to the Gypsy camp.
“THAT’S WHAT IT WAS!” CRIED TEDDY. “I KNEW I FELT SOMETHING SOFT AND FUZZY.”
“Did you lose any more chickens, or were your sheep chased in the night?” asked Uncle Ben of the storekeeper, when the two men came down to the dock.
“Yes,” was the answer. “That bad, yellow dog was around again, and I fired my gun at him, but I didn’t hit him. He ran off toward the place where Mr. Addison says the Gypsy camp is.”
“Well, we’ll soon be there and we can see for ourselves,” replied Uncle Ben.
“Will it be all right for the children?” asked Mr. Addison, as he noticed Ted and Janet and Tom and Lola in the boat.
“Oh, yes,” answered Uncle Ben. “I guess we three men are enough to make the Gypsies be good. Besides, we can have them arrested if they try any tricks.”
Off puffed the motor boat once more, and after about an hour’s ride they reached a little cove, or bay. From there a path led to the Gypsy camp, Mr. Addison said.
The boat was chained and locked to a pier, and then the party started through the woods. The children were very much excited, looking on each side as they went along, each one hoping to get the first sight of the camp.