Dorothy left her parcels down in plain view of the gypsy woman, Melea, who, upon seeing them, stepped out from her hiding place and approached the girls.
“I brought you some little things for Tommie,” said Dorothy, “I hope you can make use of them.”
“Thank you very much, miss,” the woman replied, as she gathered up in her apron the bundles Dorothy had left in the camp chair. “Tommie does need things, poor little fellow. And business is awful slow.”
Urania had slipped out to the road side now, and while the woman was “feasting” on the new things the two girls made their way toward a quiet path through the woods.
“And the birds are not home yet?” asked Urania, as the barking of the little dog in the tent became almost beyond hearing.
“No,” answered Dorothy with a question in her voice.
“Well, I saw them leave the swamp, and I thought they would fly straight home,” declared the gypsy girl.
“Leave the swamp?”
“Hush! Not so loud. Sometimes bushes have ears,” cautioned Urania. “The birds were tied in the swamp, and—some one cut the cords,” she hissed.
