“Not likely. Tramps, as a rule, do not move with that speed. It might be a young deer, or—a young girl!”
They were but a few feet away from the cave now, and Dorothy drew back while her father advanced.
“Anybody in there?” he asked gently, fearing that a male voice might alarm the gypsy girl, were she in the old ice house.
There was no answer.
“I could almost say that darting figure went in there,” said Major Dale. “Suppose you call, daughter.”
“Urania!” called Dorothy, “Urania, it is only Dorothy and Major Dale. You need not be afraid!”
The Major was close to the door of the cave. It made Dorothy think of the dreadful hour she had hidden there, and how she then feared to answer the call of her friends.
“I heard something. I’ll just take a look—”
Major Dale put his head under the brick arch at the door. “Well, girl—” he exclaimed. “Come out, we are friends.” And the next instant Dorothy, too, was in the cave, standing beside the speechless gypsy girl!
“Oh, come! Hurry, do!” pleaded Dorothy, but the girl neither spoke nor moved.