't possibly be all in one piece," and she
laughed in the deep, velvety tone that, perhaps, more than anything
else about her interesting personality, proclaimed her the woman of
unmistakable culture.

When she was gone, and Dorothy looked out into the inviting sunlight,
she hurried with her unpacking, and was soon dressed in the simple
tan-colored riding habit, that so well matched herself, as to make her
look like a shade of the morning, when she mounted the pretty little
bay pony, and set off at a canter along the North Birchland roads.

She soon forgot the fright of her boy-bandit, although she did wonder
just where the boys were, and if they had found any evidence of that
person's depradations.

"Come Cricket," she spoke to her pony. "We must try a cross-cut. I
want some mandrakes."

[Illustration: "I DON'T WANT TO STRIKE YOU," SHE SAID, "BUT YOU KNOW
PRISONERS MUST OBEY." _Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Page 54_]

The horse pricked up his ears in response. Dorothy turned into a field
where she thought the plum-shaped fruit would be found.

Dismounting, she threw the reins over Cricket's head and allowed him
to nibble at the sweet grass. Yes, there were the mandrakes with their
finger-shaped leaves. And they were turning yellow. Dorothy gathered a
few, then stood up to look about her.

"The bandit!" she gasped in a whisper.

He had his hand on Cricket's rein!

"Drop that!" she shouted. "You need not think I am afraid of you now!"

"What?" asked the boy, dropping his disguise like a thing held by one
single fastening and moving as if to spring up into the saddle.

Dorothy fairly jumped over the tall grasses, and was beside the horse
before the boy could mount. She grasped the bridle, and, at the same
time, more firmly grasped her riding crop.

"Now I have you," she declared, gazing in wonderment at the very
good-looking boy who tried in vain to escape from the stirrup in which
his boot had stuck. Seeing her opportunity, Dorothy dropped the bridle
and crop, and, with both hands, grasped the boy very much in the same
manner as he had seized her the day before.

"Let me go!" he snarled, struggling to free himself.

"Not just now," replied Dorothy, coolly, for she saw that she was
quite able to hold him, and that he was really only a very slight
young boy. "I am going to have a try at your game," she added, smiling
at her versatility.

The boy almost fell under the horse, but Cricket was so well trained
t