“Maybe she heard the car,” suggested Margery.
“No she didn’t,” declared Jane. “I drove into the camp without making a sound. I wanted to give you a surprise. I wonder how she knew I was near.”
Neither Jane nor any of her companions had thought of the big headlights on the car, the glint of which had flashed on the foliage of a tree near the gipsy camp just as Jane was swinging into the byway that led down to the Meadow-Brook camp. Perhaps the old gipsy’s keen eyes had caught this flash and read it aright. But this the girls were never to know. Their attention, just now, was attracted by the sound of loud talking. Voices were heard approaching the camp.
“I guess we are going to have quite a party this evening,” said Harriet, stepping into the wagon. “Oh, this is simply great! What a pity we aren’t all made up to look like Gipsies.”
“Look, girls!” exclaimed the guardian.
They did look, with widening eyes.
“My grathiouth, if it ithn’t thothe Tramp boyth,” breathed Tommy.
“It certainly is the Tramp Club. There’s Captain Baker and Sammy and Dill and Davy. Where could they have come from?” wondered Hazel.
“Oh, let’s go out and call to them,” suggested Margery enthusiastically.
“Wait,” warned Harriet. “I have a plan that I think will work to perfection. If it does, we’ll have some fun with the Tramp Club this evening.”