"On the very day! The very day!" he cried, and waving his arms over his head in a wild appeal to heaven, he turned and rushed down the hillside.

In another moment the forest had swallowed him up, while the five young people stood staring after him in amazement.

"Well, of all the rummy old chaps!" exclaimed Alfred.

"Oh, he's touched of course," said Stephen, tapping his head. "He must be. You know old Adam said he's always pretty bad at this time of the year. I suppose it is the anniversary of something. But, Barbara, what do you mean by going and stirring up memories?"

"It wasn't I; it was my name," replied Barbara. "Once there was a girl named Barbara, but the rest of the story can never be written, because he won't tell what it is."

"Let's have a peep at the house before we go," said Jimmie, "and then let's eat. I'm starving."

"All right," said Stephen. "Step right in and have a look for yourselves, but hurry up before the old gentleman comes back."

The place was certainly comfortable and cosy-looking, in spite of the wooden walls and bare floors. It was spick and span and clean, kept that way by Adam's wife, Stephen explained. There were a great many books, some of them in foreign languages, two big easy-chairs near the open fireplace, and on an old mahogany table, the only other piece of furniture in the room, a brown earthenware jar filled with honeysuckle.

Only one picture hung on the wall, a small miniature suspended from a nail just over the pot of flowers. Ruth examined the picture closely.

Besides his books, she thought, this little miniature was perhaps the only link with the outer world that the old man had permitted himself to keep.

"Come here, everybody, quick," she called, "and look at this miniature.

As I live, it's enough like Bab to be a picture of her, except for the old-fashioned dress and long ringlets."

They looked at the picture carefully, taking it down from its nail in order to see it in the light.

"My word!" exclaimed Jimmie. "It's as good a likeness as you could wish to find. It must have been the resemblance that gave the old man the fit, then, and not the name."

The miniature showed the face of a young girl, somewhat older than Barbara, but certainly very like her in features and expression. She had the same laughing mouth and frank, brown eyes, the same chestnut hair curling in crisp ringlets around the forehead, but caught up loosely in the back in a net and tied with a velvet snood. She wore a bodice of rose-colored taffeta cut low in the neck, and fastened coquettishly among the curls was a pink flower.

"Who is it, Barbara?" asked Stephen. "Have you any idea?"

"I can't imagine," replied Bab. "Perhaps it's just a coincidence. I am not an uncommon type and may have lots of doubles. There are many people in this world who have brown eyes and brown hair. You meet them at every turn."

"Yes," said Ruth, "but all of them haven't regular features and little crisp curls, and just that particular expression. However, we must go.

We shouldn't like the hermit to come back and find us prying into his affairs. And that is why he is here, evidently-to hide from pryers."

"Yes," agreed Stephen, "I really do think we had better be going. I know a pretty little dell where we can eat lunch if Jimmie can restrain his appet.i.te until we get there."

"Well, cut along, then," ordered Jimmie, "and let us hasten to the banquet hall."

Closing the door carefully behind them the young folks hurried toward the woodcutters' road.

CHAPTER XVI-A SURPRISE

When the last sandwich had been eaten, and the last crumb of cake disposed of, the picnic party leaned lazily against the moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree to discuss the events of the morning.

Jose was the subject of the talk. All were inclined to believe, now, that they had been deceived by the strong resemblance between the young Spaniard and the mischievous person who had mystified them in the woods that morning. It seemed impossible that Jose was a thief, or that he could have been guilty of such trifling trickery as the individual in the robber's clothes. Jose, quiet and reserved though he was, had become a favorite with the young people.

"It is strange," said Ruth. "He must have the nameless charm, because there is not one of us who does not like him. As for me, I feel sorry for him. And why, I'd like to know?"

"It's his mournful black eye, my dear young lady," replied Jimmie.

"Whatever it is," said Stephen, decisively, "we must not make any accusations without knowing, for certain, that we are right. It is rather an uncomfortable situation, I think, considering he is uncle's guest."

"It is, indeed," replied Alfred, "and I vote that we say not a word to anyone until we find out where Jose spent the morning."

"Agreed by all," cried Jimmie. "Am I right, girls?"

The two girls a.s.sented, and the matter was settled.

"I think we had better be moving on toward home, now," said Stephen, "if we want to escape a scolding from Miss Stuart."

"All right, general," replied Jimmie. "The bivouac is at an end. Rise, soldiers, and follow your leader." He c.o.c.ked his hat, turned up his coat collar and struck a Napoleon pose.

There was a stifled laugh, from behind a clump of alder bushes-a coa.r.s.e laugh that made the boys look up quickly and uneasily.

"What was that?" asked Ruth, frightened.

Without waiting for a reply, Alfred divided the bushes with his cane disclosing three pairs of eyes gazing impudently at them. Three figures untangled themselves from the bushes and rose stiffly, as if they had been lying concealed there for a long time. The girls gave a stifled cry of alarm, for each recognized the giant tramp, who had attacked them near the churchyard of Sleepy Hollow; and his companions were probably the same, although the girls had not seen them at that time. The leader of the three roughs did not recognize them, however. He had been too much intoxicated to remember their faces; but he was sober, now, and in an uglier mood than when he had been in his cups.

"So ho!" he cried. "We have here five rich, young persons-rich with the money they have no right to-stolen money-stolen from me and mine.

While we beg and tramp, and dress in rags, you throw away the money we have earned for you. Well, we won't have it. Will we, pals? We'll get back some of the money that belongs to us by rights. You'll hand out what you've got in your pockets, and, if it ain't enough, we'll keep you into the bargain until your fathers they pays for your release. D'ye see? Ho! Ho!" He roared out a terrible laugh until the woods resounded.

The three boys had lined up in front of the two girls and Stephen had called to them rea.s.suringly over his shoulder:

"Start on, girls. You know the path. Follow it the way we came. If you meet Adam, ask him to go with you, or even old Jennie. Don't be frightened. It'll be all right, but we've got to fight."

Barbara and Ruth, both very calm and pale, were standing silently, waiting for orders.

"Do you think we could help by staying, Bab?" asked Ruth.

"I don't know, dear," replied Bab. "Wait, and let me think a moment."

She closed her eyes and her moving lips repeated the little prayer: "Heaven, make me calm in the face of danger," but in that moment the fight had begun. The two girls stood fascinated, rooted to the spot.

Stephen, who was a trained boxer, had tackled the leader and had managed to give him several straight blows, at the same time dodging the badly-aimed blows from the big fist of his opponent. Alfred had purposely chosen the next largest tramp, leaving a small, wiry man for Jimmie to grapple with. Alfred, also, had been carefully trained in the arts of boxing and wrestling; but his opponent was no mean match for him, and the two presently were rolling over and over on the ground, their faces covered with dust and blood. Poor Jimmie was not a fighter.

All his life he had shunned gymnasiums, preferring to thrum the piano or the guitar, or invent models for airships. However, the boy was no coward and he went at his enemy with a will that was lacking in force only because he himself lacked the muscle to give it. But the wiry fellow who had been his portion was evidently the best-trained fighter of the three tramps, and it was only a few moments before Jimmie was bleeding from the nose and one eye was blacked. It looked as if Alfred, too, were getting the worst of it, while Stephen and his tramp were still raining blows upon each other, jumping about in a circle. Bab longed to help Jimmie, but she saw, and Ruth agreed, that they would do more harm than good.

The two girls decided to run for help, even if they had to run all the way to Ten Eyck Hall, especially as, in the midst of the scrimmage, Stephen had called out to them to hurry up.

Making the best speed they could through the brambles and ferns, they had gone not more than a few rods when, pausing in their flight, they found themselves face to face with blind Jennie.

"What is happening?" demanded the old woman in a terrified whisper. "I hear the sound of blows. I smell blood."

"There is a fight, Jennie," replied Bab, almost sobbing in her excitement. "We must get help quickly from somewhere. Are the Gypsies far from here?"

"Yes," answered Jennie. "Not so near as the hall. But wait! Come with me," and her face was illumined by the expression of one who is about to reveal a well-kept secret.

"But, Jennie, is it help you are bringing us?" asked Ruth, demurring a little.