With this comment the colored woman handed over to her master a bit of dirty wrapping paper.
On it was scrawled in almost illegible characters:
"U wont git hur agin.—The Romanys."
"The Romanys!" exclaimed Peggy.
"Yes; that's the gipsy word for themselves," said Mr. Parker. "I'm afraid that the same band that had her before has stolen her again."
"What are we to do?" wailed Bess.
"Hush!" said Jess; "let Mr. Parker decide what is best."
They stood about with dismayed faces.
Miss Prescott was weeping softly. Peggy could hardly keep back her tears. The little brown Wren had become very dear to all of them. It was a hard blow indeed to lose her like this.
"But how could they know that she was here?" objected Jimsy.