"Nothing but a nasty whack," he pronounced, after an examination. "Well, girls, was it an exciting battle?"
"Oh, it was terrible," cried Jess; "we thought you'd be badly beaten."
"But as it is we appear to be future 'white hopes,' not forgetting Jake," smiled Roy, who was still panting from his exertions.
"You were awfully brave, I think," cried Bess admiringly, giving the three "heroes" a warm glance.
"Well, there wasn't anything to do but fight, unless we'd run away," laughed Roy, "and now what about the cause of all the trouble?"
He glanced at the little girl clinging to Peggy's hand. The child was pitifully emaciated, with drawn features and large, dark eyes that gazed about her bewilderedly. Her clothing was a red gingham dress that fitted her like a sack. She was shoeless and stockingless. Her brown hair, unkempt and ragged, hung in elf locks about her sad little face. Certainly, as regarded size and general appearance, her name, "The Wren," fitted her admirably.
"I don't know what to do about her," admitted Peggy; "suppose we ask Aunt Sally? I don't want to let the gipsies have her again, and yet I don't see how we can take her."
At the words the little creature burst into a frantic outbreak.
"Don't let those people have me back; don't," she begged; "they'll kill me if you do."
She clung passionately to Peggy's dress. Tears came to the girl's eyes at the pitiful manifestation of fear.