"Pooh! you can't frighten me that way," declared Ruth Fielding. "I am not afraid of your spells, or your fortune telling, or any of your foolish magic. If you believe in any of it yourself, you have not gained much wisdom all the years you have lived."

"You do not fear the arts of my people?" repeated Zelaya, trying to hold Ruth with her eye as she had Helen.

"No, I do not. I fear your wickedness. And I know you must be very dishonest and cruel. But you have no more supernatural power than I have myself!"

Zelaya's wrinkled face suddenly reddened with pa.s.sion. She raised her claw-like hand and struck the bold girl sharply upon the cheek.

"Impudence!" she muttered.

"And _that_ is nothing supernatural," said Ruth, with continued boldness, although the blow had hurt her--leaving its mark. "You are breaking the laws of the land, which are far more powerful than any Gypsy law----"

"Wait!" commanded the woman, threateningly. "You will learn yet, bold girl, how strong our laws are."

She went back to her stool, mumbling to herself. Ruth lifted Helen into one of the berths, and sat down beside her. By and by the door of the van opened again and a bold-looking young woman--not the one that had brought them to the van--came in with three wooden bowls of a savory stew. She offered the tray to the visitors at a motion from old Zelaya, so that they had their choice before the queen received her own supper.

"Let's eat it," whispered Ruth to Helen, when she saw that Zelaya plunged her own tin spoon into the stew. "It surely isn't drugged, or _she_ wouldn't touch it."

They ate greedily, for both were hungry. It takes more than fear to spoil the healthy appet.i.te of youth!

"Do you suppose," whispered Helen, "that we could climb out of one of these windows after she falls asleep?"

"I am sure I couldn't get through one," returned Ruth. "And I doubt if you could. Besides, there will be guards, and the dogs are awake. We've got to wait for help from outside, my dear."

"Do you suppose Tom will find us?"

"I hope not!" exclaimed Ruth. "Not while he is alone. But he certainly will give the alarm, and the whole countryside will be aroused."

"Oh, dear, me! this old woman seems so sure that she can hold us captive."

"I think she is crazy," Ruth declared. "And the other Gypsies must lack good sense, too, or they would not be governed by her."

The queen gobbled down her supper and then prepared to retire to her own bunk. She told the girls to do the same, and they removed their shoes and outer garments and lay down--one on one side of the wagon, and one on the other.

Ruth's head was toward the door. She could watch the movements of the old Gypsy woman. Zelaya did not go to sleep at all, but seemed to be waiting for the camp to get quiet and for her two visitors to fall into slumber.

She kept raising her head and looking first at Helen, then at Ruth. The latter knew by her chum's breathing that, despite her fears, Helen had fallen asleep almost instantly.

So Ruth began to breathe deeply and regularly, too. She closed her eyes--almost entirely. This was what Zelaya had been waiting for.

Silently the old woman arose and turned up the lampwick a little. She knelt down before one of the padlocked boxes and unlocked it softly.

Then she rummaged in the box--seemingly beneath a lot of rubbish that filled it, and drew forth a j.a.panned box--like a cashbox. This was locked, too, and Zelaya wore the key of it on a string about her neck.

Silently, with a glance at the two girls now and then, she unlocked this box and opened it on the top of the chest, before which she knelt.

Ruth could see the old woman's face. It changed very much as she gazed upon what was in the j.a.panned box. Her black eyes glowed, and her gray, thin lips were wreathed in a smile of delight.

Again Ruth remembered Roberto's account of his grandmother. She was a miser, and he had mentioned that he had seen her at night gloating over her h.o.a.rded wealth.

Surely Zelaya had all the signs of a miser. The next moment Ruth saw that the old woman verily possessed something worth gloating over.

She lifted from the interior of the box a string of flashing gems--a broad band, or necklace, of them, in fact--and let them flow through her fingers in a stream of sparkling light. They were beautiful, beautiful pearls--a really wonderful necklace of them!

Ruth held her breath for a moment. The queen turned suddenly and shot a keen, suspicious glance at her. The girl knew enough to cough, turn slightly, and recommence her steady breathing.

The old woman had dropped the pearls in haste. Now she picked them up again, and went on with her silent worship of the gems.

Ruth did not startle her again; but she saw something that made her own heart beat faster and brought the perspiration out upon her limbs.

Above the old woman's head, and behind her, was a window. Pressed close to the pane of the window Ruth saw a face--dark, evil, be-mustached. It was one of the Gypsy men.

She remembered now what she had overheard between the two supposed tramps who had taken shelter in the deserted house during the tempest.

Was _this_ one of those two ruffians? And was he the one who had railed at the division of some stolen treasure, and had spoken with covetousness of the beautiful pearls?

The thought made Ruth tremble. His wicked face withdrew, but all the time the Gypsy queen was admiring the necklace, Ruth felt that the evil eyes of the man were also gloating over the pearls.

CHAPTER XI

TOM ON THE TRAIL

In spite of the fact that his sister thought it hard that Tom Cameron had not returned to the stalled auto by dark, the lad was having no easy time.

In the first place, he had not run a mile on the road to Severn Corners when he stepped on a pebble, turned his ankle sharply, and had to hobble the rest of the way at a much slower pace than he had expected.

All the time, too, Tom was troubled about the uncertainty of there being at the Corners any repair shop. He knew it was a small settlement. At most, the repair garage would be very small, and perhaps the mechanic a mere country "jack-of-all-trades," who would fumble the job.

To obtain a car to drag his own into the town was beyond the boy's hopes, and when he came at last to a comfortable looking farmhouse some half a mile that side of the settlement, he determined to see if he could not obtain a pair of horses from the farmer, to get the car to the hamlet.

He approached the back door of the house without seeing anybody about.

It was already growing dark, he had hobbled so slowly on the road. As he stepped upon the porch, Tom heard a sudden furious barking inside the house.

"Welcome to our city!" he muttered. "If n.o.body's at home but _that_ savage beast, I'm likely to fare about as Roberto did at that farmhouse 'way back on the road by Culm Falls."

But he ventured to rap upon the door. It was one of those old-fashioned doors which opens in two parts. The upper half swung outward, but the lower remained bolted.

Lucky for Tom Cameron this was so. A great, s.h.a.ggy beast, with gleaming fangs and s...o...b..ring jaws, appeared over the ledge, scratching with his strong claws to get out at the intruder.

"What do you want?" demanded a shrill voice from somewhere behind the excited brute. "We ain't got nothin' for tramps."

"I should say you most certainly _had_ something for tramps, Madam,"

said Tom, when he could make himself heard. "Any tramp would run from that fellow."

"I don't see _you_ running. But you better," advised the woman, who was thin-faced, scant of hair, and had a voice about as pleasant as a whip-saw going through a knot.

"But _I_ am not a tramp, I a.s.sure you, Madam," said Tom, politely.