"I didn't hear them. I never learned much of the language they use among themselves."

"Well, we got a tip," said the boy, "that the bracelet belonged to this Queen Alma, and that there is a row among the Gypsies over the ownership of it."

"You don't tell me!"

"I am telling you. We heard so. Say, is that Big Jim a Spaniard? A Spanish Gypsy, I mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He looks like a Spaniard, or a Mexican, or an Italian."

"Yes. I thought he did. He comes of some Latin race, anyway. What is his last name?"

"Why--I--I am not sure that I know."

"Is it Costello? Did you hear that name while you were with the Gypsies, June?"

"Some of them are named Costello. It is a family name among them I guess. And about that Jim. Do you know that I saw him yesterday driving down Main Street in an automobile?"

"You don't mean it? Gypsies are going to become flivver traders instead of horse swappers, are they?" and Neale laughed.

"Oh, it was a big, seven-pa.s.senger car," said June. "Those Gypsies have money, if they want to spend it."

"Did you ever hear of a Gypsy junkman?" chuckled Neale.

"Of course not. Although I guess junkmen make good money nowadays,"

drawled June Wildwood, laughing too. "You are a funny boy, Neale O'Neil. Do you want to know anything else?"

"Lots of things. But I guess you cannot tell me much more about the Gypsies that would be pertinent to the bracelet business. We hear that the Costello Gypsies are fighting over the possession of the heirloom--the bracelet, you know. That is why one bunch of them wanted to get it off their hands for a while--and so gave it into the keeping of Tess and Dot."

"Mercy!"

"Does that seem improbable to you, June?"

"No-o. Not much. They might. It makes me think that maybe the Gypsies have been watching the old Corner House and know all about the Kenways."

"They might easily do that. You know, they might know us all from that time away back when we brought you home from Pleasant Cove with us.

This is some of the same tribe you were with--sure enough!"

"I know it," sighed June Wildwood. "I've been scared a little about them too. But for my own sake. I haven't dared tell Rosa; but pap comes down here to the store for me every evening and beaus me home. I feel safer."

"The bracelet business has nothing to do with you, of course?"

"Of course not. But those Gypsies might have some evil intent about Ruth and her sisters."

"Guess they are just trying to use them for a convenience. While that bracelet is in the Corner House no other claimant but those Gypsy women are likely to get hold of it. Believe me, it is a puzzle," he concluded. "I guess we will have to put it up to Mr. Howbridge, sure enough."

"Oh! The Kenways's lawyer?" cried June.

"Their guardian. Sure enough. That is what we will have to do."

But when Neale and Agnes Kenway, after an early breakfast, hurried downtown to Mr. Howbridge's office the next morning to tell the lawyer all about the Gypsies and Queen Alma's bracelet, they made a surprising discovery.

Mr. Howbridge had left town the evening before on important business.

He might not return for a week.

CHAPTER XVII--RUTH BEGINS TO WORRY

Oakhurst, in the mountains, was a very lovely spot. Besides the hotel where Luke Shepard had worked and where he had met with his accident, there were bungalows and several old-fashioned farmhouses where boarders were received. There was a lake, fine golf links, bridlepaths through the woods, and mountains to climb. It was a popular if quiet resort.

Ruth and Cecile Shepard had rooms in one of the farmhouses, for the hotel was expensive. Besides, the farmer owned a beautifully shaded lawn overlooking the lake and the girls could sit there under the trees while the invalid, as they insisted upon calling Luke, reclined on a swinging cot.

"Believe me!" Cecile often insisted, "I will never send another telegram as long as I live. I cannot forgive myself for making such a mess of it. But then, if I hadn't done so, you would not be here now, Ruthie."

"Isn't that a fact?" agreed her brother. "You are all right, Sis! I am for you, strong."

Ruth laughed. Yet there were worried lines between her eyes.

"It is all right," she murmured. "I might have come in any case--for Mr. Howbridge advised it by this letter that they remailed to me. But I should not have left in such haste, and I should have left somebody besides Mrs. McCall to look after the girls."

"Pooh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Luke. "What is the matter with Agnes?"

"That is just it," laughed Ruth again, but shaking her head too. "It is Agnes, and what she may do, that troubles me more than anything else."

"Goodness me! She is a big girl," declared Cecile. "And she has lots of sense."

"She usually succeeds in hiding her good sense, then," rejoined Ruth.

"Of course she can take care of herself. But will she give sufficient attention to the little ones. That is the doubt that troubles me."

"Well, you just can't go away now!" wailed Cecile. "You have got to stay till the doctor says we can move Luke. I can't take him back alone."

"Now, don't make me out so badly off. I am lying here like a poor log because that sawbones and you girls make me. But I know I could get up and play baseball."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The girls could sit under the tree while Luke reclined on a swinging cot.]

"Don't you dare!" cried his sister.

"You would not be so unwise," said Ruth promptly.

"All right. Then you stop worrying, Ruth," the young fellow said.

"Otherwise I shall 'take up my bed and walk'--you see! This lying around like an ossified man is a nuisance, and it's absurd, anyway."

Ruth had immediately written to Mr. Howbridge asking him to look closely after family affairs at the Corner House. Had she known the lawyer was not at home when her letter arrived in Milton she certainly would have started back by the very next train.

She wrote Mrs. McCall, too, for exact news. And naturally she poured into her letter to Agnes all the questions and advice of which she could think.