Dropping any more paper scraps was out of the question. Carl was too tightly wedged in between Ben Ali and Haidee to use his hands; besides, he could not have made a move that would not instantly have been seen.
Presently the Hindoo on the horse called out something in his unknown jargon. Ben Ali answered, and the runabout was turned from the road and into the woods.
Possibly they proceeded a hundred feet into the timber. At the end of that distance their progress was halted by a creek with steep banks.
Ben Ali got out. While standing on the ground facing Carl, he made sinuous movements with his slim brown hands—passes, most probably, designed to keep Carl in a hypnotic state.
The girl shuddered, suddenly, and drew a hand across her eyes.
"Uncle Ben!" she exclaimed, with a sharp cry, "where am I?"
"You are safe," said Ben Ali. "You are not to work with de trapeze any more, not be with de show any more. We are quit with de show. Kabultah, meetoowah?"
"Yes, yes," breathed the girl, "I understand. But where are we going? I don't want to be in a trance any more. I want to know what I say, what I do—all the time."
The man's face hardened.
"You come, Haidee," he said, gently but none the less firmly.