hat her friend was able to make
through the rough forest.

Dorothy stopped and listened. She had reached a cleared spot, where
the branches of a beautiful fir stood out over a greensward, like a
natural tower. Without hesitating a moment, Dorothy easily scaled the
strong branches, and presently could see from the height of the fir
tree a spot--ideal! Yes, and there was something white on it!

"Cologne!" she called. "I see a tent!"

By this time Cologne had reached Dorothy.

"Oh, do come down," she begged. "If you should slip----"

"But I shall not slip. There was no use in running wild through the
woods, when I could get a distinct view from here. It may be a gypsy
camp. Where are the boys?"

"They seem to have gotten away, somehow," sighed Cologne. "Oh, what
shall we do? We cannot go alone to that camp."

"Indeed I am going," declared Dorothy. "I heard Tavia's voice, and now
I see a tent. If she is held there, we must go to her at once."

Cologne was terrified, but the experience through which Dorothy had
passed in the last few days seemed to make all other fears look
insignificant.

She had slid down the tree, and was now making her way in the
direction of the tent. It was near the edge of a natural bank, that
stood like a wind-shield against the rocks.

This shelf made a covering for the spot, so that only from some
elevation such as from the tree could it be seen for any distance.

"Come on, Cologne," said Dorothy. "I see a path to the place. It must
be somebody's camp."

"Why not wait for the boys? Give me your whistle. I must call them.
Where can they have gone to?"

"I am not going to wait one moment," declared Dorothy. "She may be
suffering!"

The bent grass and weeds showed the way, Dorothy hurried along, only
stopping to listen for the hoped-for voice. But there was no word from
Tavia.

Cologne was almost behind Dorothy, but she could not conquer her fear.
She hesitated to make the first attempt to reach the tent.

Jumping over a small stream, Dorothy was beside the camp furnace. The
next moment she stood looking at Tavia!

"Tavia!" she exclaimed.

"Hush!" whispered Tavia. "We must not wake her. Oh, Dorothy!"

Like a poor, crushed bird Tavia fell at Dorothy's feet. She sobbed
convulsively, but choked back every possible sound.

"Darling!" whispered Dorothy. "What is it?"

"The sick girl! She has almost died!" sighed Tavia. "Oh, I dared not
answer again. She was so frightened at my v