“Well, she’s gone—good riddance,” thought Nat, as he started up the machine once more, and turned, at a swift speed, into the turnpike leading to North Birchland.
CHAPTER XV
A SPELL OF THE “GLUMPS”
Whizzing along the road Nat tried to decide how it would be best to break the disappointing news to Dorothy. Of his escapade with Urania he had fully determined not to say a word. Dorothy had enough girls to worry about, he argued, and if she heard of this one she would form a searching expedition, and set out at once to hunt the Gypsy who, Nat thought, was like a human squirrel and able to take care of herself.
The return trip seemed shorter than that which took Nat out to Dalton, and as the Fire Bird swung into the Cedars’ entrance somewhat later than the youth expected to get back, Dorothy was at the gate awaiting to hear news of Tavia.
“Buffalo,” announced Nat sententiously, as Dorothy came up beside the car which jerked to a stop amid a screeching of the brake. “She went there some time ago. She’s at Grace Barnum’s. Wait. I have the address.”
Without delaying to put the machine up, Nat produced a slip of paper upon which he had written, at Mrs. Travers’s direction, the street and number of Miss Barnum’s residence. He handed it to Dorothy.
“Do you think it’s all right?” asked Dorothy, looking at the directions.
“’Course it is. Everybody in Dalton is as chipper as possible. You’re the only one who’s worrying. Now, if I were you, I’d just let up, Doro. You’ll be down sick if you don’t.”
“Perhaps I am foolish. And I have given you a lot of trouble,” spoke up the girl a little sadly.
“Trouble? Nothing!” exclaimed Nat. “I just like the lark. When you want any more sleuthing done apply at headquarters. I’m the gum-shoe man for this section,” and at that he turned his attention to the Fire Bird, while Dorothy walked thoughtfully back to the house.