"Shut up!" and again that whip rang like the whisper of some frightened tree.

"Oh, stop!" yelled the girl, "or I shall----"

"Oh, no, you--won't. You just hold--your tongue."

The horses shied, and the wagon skidded. Were they held up?

"Right there, Sam," ordered the driver. "Easy--steady, Ned. Pull over here."

The wagons moved forward again, and the women felt that the possible danger of discovery had pa.s.sed.

"Keep quiet in there," called a rough voice from the seat. "These woods are thick with trailers."

For some time no one within the van spoke. Then Cora turned, and the woman wearing the thick hood clapped something over Cora's nose.

"Oh, don't! She has had enough. Let her at least live," begged the younger woman, actually fanning Cora's white face with her own soiled handkerchief.

The night seemed blacker and darker at each turn. Shouts from the searchers occasionally reached the ears of those within the wagon, and once Mr. Rand on his donkey might have seen them but for the trickery of the driver, who pulled his horses into some shadowy bushes and waited for the searchers to pa.s.s.

The young gypsy woman peered down into Cora's face.

"She's pretty," she said, with some sympathy.

"Well, by the time she's out perhaps she won't be so pretty," sneered the older woman. "I swore revenge for Salvo, and I'll have it."

"Oh, you and Salvo! Seems to me a man ought to be able----"

"You cat! Do you want to go back to the cave?"

The girl was silent again.

"Where--am I? Jack! Jack!" Cora moaned.

"Here! Don't you dare give her another drop of that stuff, or I'll--squeal!"

The old woman stopped, and in the darkness of the wagon Mother Hull felt, rather than saw, that the younger one would do as she threatened.

She might shout! Then those searching the woods would hear.

"We will soon be there. Then she may call for Jack until her throat is sore!" muttered the hag.

Cora tossed on her bed of straw. The chloroform kept her quiet, but she knew and felt that she was being borne away somewhere into that dark and lonely night. She could remember now how Ed had gone inside the hotel, and he had not come back! He would be back presently, and yes, she would try to sleep until he returned!

She moaned and tried to call, but her voice was like that strange struggle of sound that comes in nightmare. It means nothing except to the sleeper.

"She's choking," said the gypsy girl.

"Let her," replied Mother Hull. "We can dump her easily here."

"You--hag!" almost screamed the girl. "I will shout if you don't give her air."

"Here! here!" called a voice from the seat. "If you two can't keep quiet, you know what we can do!"

"She's choking!" insisted the girl.

"Let her!" mocked the man.

"I--won't. Help! Help!" yelled the girl, and as she did the light of a powerful automobile lamp was directed into the gypsy wagon!

"There they are!" could be heard plainly.

"Where?" asked the anxious ones.

"In the gulch! Head them off! I saw a wagon!"

Quicker than any one save a mountaineer knew how to swing around, that wagon swerved, turned and was again lost in the darkness.

"Thought they had us!" called the man from the seat. "Lena, you will pay for this!"

CHAPTER XIX

THE DEN OF THE GYPSY QUEEN

Cora opened her eyes. Standing over her was a woman--or was it a dream? A woman with flowing hair, beautiful, dark eyes, a band of gold like a crown about her head, and shimmering, dazzling stuff on her gown. Was Cora really awake?

"Well," said the figure, "you are not bad-looking."

"Oh, I am so--sick," moaned Cora.

"I'll ring for something. Would you take wine?"

"No, thank you; water," murmured Cora.

The moments were becoming more real to Cora, but with consciousness came that awful sickness and that dizziness. She looked at the woman in the flowing red robes. Who could she be? Surely she was beautiful, and her face was kind and her manner sweet.

The woman pulled a small cord, and presently a girl appeared to answer.

"What, madam?" asked the girl.

"Some limewater and some milk. And for me, some new cigarettes. Those Sam brought I could not use. You will find my key in my dressing table."

She turned to Cora as the girl left. "You may have anything you want,"

she said, "and you need not worry. No harm will come to you. I rather think we shall be great friends."

She sat down on some soft cushions on the floor.

Then Cora noticed that her own resting place was also on the floor--a sort of flat couch--soft, but smelling so strongly of some strange odor. Was it smoke or perfume?