CHAPTER XXIII A TANGLED SKEIN

Belle followed Cora's gaze.

"Sure enough," she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "it's that man Higby!"

"What do you suppose he's doing here?" wondered Cora.

"I suppose he's off on his vacation," hazarded Bess. "Likely enough he's stopping at one of the boarding houses in Wilton."

"You girls seem to be hypnotized," laughed Jack. "We'll get jealous if you keep looking at those chaps any longer."

"Do you see that man over there?" asked Cora, indicating Higby.

"The fellow with the rainbow tie?" asked Jack. "Yes, I see him. What of him?"

"That's the man who tried to sc.r.a.pe acquaintance with us, and nearly got my purse later on."

"I'd like to pick a quarrel with him and punch his head," said Jack savagely.

"You won't do anything of the kind, Jack Kimball," warned Cora.

"So that's our hated rival, is it?" asked Paul, looking at the young man with some amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I'll have his heart's blood," hissed Walter tragically.

"It's very queer," mused Cora. "Don't you remember, girls, how the gypsy girl nearly fainted when Bess happened to mention Higby's name? And here he is now in the same camp with her."

"I'd like to be near by when they meet," remarked Belle.

"Still looking for a mystery," chaffed Walter. "It beats all how you girls can pounce on trifles and make a mountain out of them."

"Give them an ounce of fact and they'll get a ton of romance," agreed Paul.

"We're not asking for your approval," retorted Cora. "This is a case that requires brains and naturally you boys are all at sea."

"I don't see that you've reached harbor anywhere," drawled Jack.

"Not yet," admitted Cora, "but that doesn't say we won't. I wonder where that girl can be," she continued, as she looked searchingly around.

"Perhaps they've sent her over to Wilton to tell fortunes there,"

suggested Paul. "These gypsies don't wait for business to come to them.

They hunt it up."

"Oh, I hope not!" exclaimed Cora. "The only reason I cared to come over here was to see her."

But although they loitered about the place for another hour or two, they saw no trace of the gypsy girl.

They were agreeably surprised, however, to run across Mr. Baxter, with whom their relations had grown cordial since he had exerted himself so strenuously in the search for Cora. But despite the pleasant footing on which they stood, there was still that baffling sense of reticence that enveloped him in everything concerning himself.

"Come over to get your fortune told?" asked Jack with a grin.

"Not exactly," smiled Mr. Baxter, "though I'm always in the market for exact information."

"I hope you don't mean to imply that there's anything phony about the dope they hand out here," laughed Walter.

"We saw your friend, Mr. Morley, yesterday," remarked Cora.

Mr. Baxter shot a sharp look at her.

"Is that so?" he inquired. "How did you happen to know we were acquainted?"

"He told me so himself," returned Cora promptly.

"Well, that ought to be pretty good authority," replied Mr. Baxter.

But he showed no disposition to pursue the subject, as Cora had wished he would, and the conversation turned into other channels.

Mr. Baxter excused himself shortly, and the party strolled on. The girls bought bits of bead and embroidered work from the women, and had their fortunes told twice, spinning out the time in the hope that they would meet the girl they sought. But she did not appear, and at last they made their way to the cars, sorely disappointed.

They had gone only a little way when Bess exclaimed:

"Look! There's some one behind those bushes."

The others looked, but could see nothing.

"You're dreaming, I guess," remarked her sister.

"Nothing of the kind!" replied Bess indignantly. "I have eyes. And it was a woman, too. I caught a glimpse of her skirts."

"Well, suppose it is," observed Jack nonchalantly. "She has a right to be there if she wants to. The woods are free."

"I wish you'd get down and see," pleaded Cora.

"Oh, very well," replied Jack resignedly. "Since you girls are determined to b.u.t.t in, I suppose I'll have to be the goat."

He got down from the car, but at that moment the bushes parted, and a girl stepped out into the road. She was gaily dressed and had a tambourine in her hand.

But there was no suggestion of gaiety in her face, which was distressed and bore traces of recent tears.

Cora uttered an exclamation of surprise and pleasure.

"Why," she cried, "it's the gypsy girl!"

The girl looked up and tried to smile, but it was a forlorn attempt.

The girls stepped down from the car and gathered about her. The boys would have followed, but Cora interposed.