The men crowded round with eager questions, and their delight was unbounded, for none knew better than they what risks Cora had run in those trackless woods.
One of the men volunteered to stay behind and notify the other searchers as they should come in, and then, with hearts light as thistledown, the boys and Joel retraced their steps to the mill, jumped into the car and “burned up” the road on the way to Kill Kare.
They had gone perhaps half the distance when they saw a figure on the side of the road that somehow seemed familiar.
They slowed up a little as the man approached, and then Paul gave a low whistle.
“It’s that old pirate that took the gypsy girl away from us the other morning!” he ejaculated.
“So it is,” replied Walter, as he took a closer look. “I wonder what the old rascal is doing around here.”
“Up to no good, I’ll be bound,” remarked Joel, his old antipathy toward the vagrant people asserting itself.
“I’ve a good mind to speak to him,” said Paul, who was driving, as he slowed up a little.
“What’s the use?” replied Walter. “You won’t get anything out of him that he doesn’t want to tell you. And that’ll be mighty little, or I miss my guess.”
The gypsy had looked up as the car approached, and it was apparent that he had recognized the boys, for the same scowl came over his face that they had seen on the first occasion of meeting.