lders. "I rather
like them."

"Had one on trial?" teased the boy.

"No, on probation," braved Betty.

"Then," said the officer, aside to Mr. Rand, "we shall raid the place!"

"Exactly, exactly! There may be more girls under the stoop or up the
chimney. That place should not be allowed to stand."

"It was a great find," admitted the officer, "but I never would have
been able to do anything if the young ladies had not recognized the
voice. That place has been there for years. The Bradly house would
have got past any of us."

"Yes, the girls helped," said Mr. Rand proudly. "I have a great regard
for girls."

"You say silver was stolen from the seashore cottage? Likely it is in
that place."

"Haven't the slightest doubt of it, and more, too, I'll wager. Now,
boys"--to the officers--"you have done a good night's work. We're a
happy family, and I don't want to keep you longer from yours." So,
with promises to soon overhaul the old Bradly house, the men of the law
departed.

"But why did you sing, Cora? How could you?" asked Ed.

"Oh, I knew I was soon going to be happy, and wanted to get used to
it," said Cora, with a laugh.

"You haven't failed," said Dr. Robbins.

"Praise from you? No, thanks to my good friend, we had everything but
liberty. Didn't we, Helka?"

"Oh, she's too busy. Let her alone," suggested Jack, his face radiant.

"And you have on my bracelet! Cora Kimball!" accused Betty.

"Another link in the endless chain," explained Cora vaguely. "That is
a present from Gypsy Land."

"Suppose we eat," suggested the practical Mr. Rand. "I have cabled
Mrs. Kimball. She had not yet sailed."

"Oh, poor, darling mother!" exclaimed Cora, her eyes filling.

"Poor, darling--you," added Jack, not hesitating to kiss her openly.

"Next!" called Ed.

"Halves on that!" demanded Walter.

"Fenn!" shouted Cora, for, indeed, the boys threatened to carry out the
game.

"Maybe you would like--a minister," suggested Mr. Rand mischievously,
glancing at the undisturbed Helka and David.

"For a couple of jobs?" asked Walter, looking keenly at Mr. Rand and
carrying the same look into Dr. Robbins' face.

"Well, I don't mind," replied the gentleman. "Betty is getting beyond
my control."

But Lillian, the gypsy queen, was not in such a hurry to wed, even her
princely David. She would have a correct trousseau, and have a great
wedding, with all the motor girls as maids. Her fear of the clan w