He now noted, to his further astonishment and perplexity, that there was a third person in the rig—Gid Gibbon’s daughter, a pretty girl in a coarse way, and given to loud dressing. She had plenty of black hair and a pair of dark eyes that might have been beautiful if they had not had a certain hard, defiant look in them.
As they drew near Fan Harding turned and seemed to whisper something to the girl, whose name was Hester, at which they both laughed heartily.
CHAPTER VII.
PEGGY IS PUZZLED.
“Hello, Gid,” hailed Roy, thinking that perhaps the ne’er-do-well, who conducted a small blacksmith shop some distance off, might be able to throw some light on the mystery.
“Hello, yourself,” was the response in a harsh, gutteral voice as Gid drew in his reins and the conveyance came to a stop. Roy raised his hat to Hester Gibbons and nodded coldly to Fan Harding.
“Good gracious, what’s been happening?” shrilled out the girl.
“An accident,” said Roy, and went on rapidly to explain what had occurred.
“And the worst of it is,” the boy went on, “that besides the accident Miss Bancroft has suffered a serious loss. A wallet containing valuable jewelry has vanished entirely.” Roy watched Fan Harding closely as he spoke and thought that he saw him change color. It might have likewise been fancy, but he could have sworn that the girl, too, looked confused. Gid puckered up his lips and emitted a whistle.