“Stephen,” exclaimed the major, finally, as the afternoon began to wane, “I can’t stand this any longer. The boy may have wandered into the woods and been attacked by some of those tramp ruffians. Order the horses. We’ll ride to the Gypsy camp and take the road to town. Tell the girls to explain the situation to Miss Sallie while we are gone.”
CHAPTER XX—THE FIRE BRIGADE
Ruth and Barbara related to Miss Sallie their adventures of the day before. She went through a dozen stages of emotion, and fairly wrung her hands over the tramps. The part about José she could not believe.
“That nice boy!” she exclaimed. “It is impossible.” Then she grew indignant. “What does John Ten Eyck mean by bringing us into this lawless country, I should like to know?”
“But, auntie, the major declares it was never like this before. The woods have always been perfectly safe. When Stephen and Martin were little boys they used to play in them with only Old Jennie to look after them.”
“Ruth,” cried Miss Sallie, “the major is one of the nicest men in the world, but he always would overlook disagreeable things. He runs away from anything that hurts. He may have overlooked the tramps and robbers, just as he has been blind to ugliness whenever he could.”
“He’s a dear,” said Mollie.
“Dear or no dear,” cried Miss Sallie, “this time we really must go. Tell the chauffeur to fix up the machine, Ruth, my child, for to-morrow we shall leave this barbarous place.”
“All right, auntie,” replied her niece, relieved that they were not to go immediately, since they all wanted to see the episode of José through.
Time passed, but the four horsemen did not return. The girls were sitting with Miss Sallie at the shady end of the piazza, watching the sun sink behind the forest. There was a smell of burning in the air that the sensitive nostrils of the chaperon had sniffed immediately.