The other handed it to him. The next instant a report rang out and a bullet whizzed over the boys' heads.

"Come back here," shouted the man who had fired the shot; "I want to see you."

The boys hesitated for a minute.

"The next shot 'ull come lower if you don't," warned the man; "come on, no nonsense."

As there seemed to be nothing else to do the boys obeyed. As they drew closer they recognized the fellow.

"Oh, you know me, eh?" he snarled; "well, you'll know me better before we get through. Follow me, now. Pedro, you take the rifle and fall in behind. If they try to escape shoot them down."

Here was a fine situation. They had found the gipsies' camp with a vengeance, but for all the good it was going to do The Wren, unless they could get her away, they might as well not have come. These gloomy reflections sifted through their minds as they paced along, the man with the rifle occasionally prodding them with it just to make them "step lively," as he phrased it.

At length they came to a sort of large open place shaped like a basin, and placed in the middle of this natural island. In this basin were set up several squalid tents, about which the gipsies were squatting.

They set up a yell of surprise as the two boys were brought in.

"Where under the sun did you find them, Beppo?" exclaimed the same woman who had so cruelly ill-treated The Wren the time the boys rescued her.

"Oh, they were just taking a stroll, and happened to stroll in here,"

said Beppo viciously.

"I guess they won't have a chance to bother us again. They're going to make quite a stay here."

The gipsies set up a taunting laugh. Suddenly, from one of the tents, a tiny figure darted.

"Oh, I knew you'd come! I knew you'd come," it cried.

It was the poor little Wren. She had been stripped of her nice clothes and put into some filthy rags, her face was stained with crying and there was a bruise on her forehead.

With a curse Beppo seized the child by one arm, swung her round and dealt her a savage box on the ear.

"Get back where you belong!" he roared.

The next instant Beppo had measured his length on the ground and beneath one of his eyes a beautiful plum-colored swelling was developing. As has been said, Roy could hit a powerful blow.

CHAPTER XXVII.

DELIVERANCE.

The next minute all was wild confusion. The boys found themselves on the ground, being scratched and bitten and kicked by men and women alike.

They did not have a chance against this horde of half savage wanderers.

At length beaten and bruised they were tied with ropes and thrown into one of the tents and a man set to guard it.

All day they lay there without anything to eat or drink and no one to come near them except that occasionally a tangled head would be thrust in to hurl some taunt at them.

Darkness fell and they still lay there, suffering terrible pain from their wounds and bonds.

"This is the uttermost limit," declared Roy, in a low tone; "we're in the worst fix we ever got into this time."

"We certainly are. What a bit of bad luck that the rascal Beppo came up when he did! That other gipsy had no idea who we were."

"Well, I had the satisfaction of giving Master Beppo a good black eye,"

muttered Roy.

"Yes; that was a peach. It did me good to see it land."

"It landed all right. Ouch, my back feels as if it was broken."

"My wrists and ankles are awfully sore. I wonder if they mean to let us loose or give us anything to eat."

"Well, we won't last long at this rate. I guess they mean to be as cruel as they can to us in return for that punch I gave Beppo."

"I wouldn't have spoken to you again if you hadn't."

"I don't blame you."

It grew dark. Outside they heard the murmur of voices for a time and then all became quiet. Just before silence fell and snores became audible they heard the man on duty as their guard call for some coffee to keep by his side during the night.

"I'll send that brat of a Wren to you with it directly," they heard Beppo's wife reply; "the little beast, it'll do her good to work."

Then came the sound of a slap and a sob.

The boys' blood boiled.

"Oh, what wouldn't I give to have Master Beppo in a twenty-four-foot ring," breathed Roy.

"I think he'd look well decorating a tree," grated out Jimsy viciously.

The night wore on, but the boys did not sleep. Their tight bonds and worry over their situation prevented this.

All at once Roy's attention was attracted by somebody raising the flap at the back of the tent. Next something crawled in. At first he thought it was a large dog.

But then came a whisper:

"It's me, Wren."

"What are you doing here?"

"Hush, I've come to get you free. You'll take me with you, won't you?"

"Of course; what a question to ask! But how can you free us?"

"I've got a knife here. I'll cut those ropes in a minute."