gging his tail, with an air of having abundantly satisfied his own
expectations. Peggy's efforts to induce him to take up the trail were
useless. Familiar as they all were with Aunt Abigail's eccentricities,
it was impossible to believe that she had improved the occasion of their
absence to climb a pear-tree, especially as its fruit had been gathered
weeks earlier. Moreover, even granting the possibility of so erratic a
proceeding, she must have descended from her perch, unless she had
continued her journey by airship. Peggy brought the worsted shawl, and
renewed her appeals and commands, while Hobo continued to wag his tail,
apparently under the impression that he was being praised for some
remarkable achievement.

"There's no use wasting any more time," Amy cried at last, "on a dog as
stupid as that one."

"He never pretended to be a bloodhound," said Peggy, her sense of
justice driving her to the defence of her protege. And then she dropped
the shawl and ran to meet Jerry Morton, whose cheery whistle usually
announced his coming some time in advance of his actual arrival.

Jerry had come to ask the opinion of the company as to the advisability
of occupying the second intermission by a banjo duet. But before he
could introduce the subject, his attention was claimed by the news of
Aunt Abigail's mysterious disappearance. As all the girls talked at
once, the resulting explanation was somewhat confused, and Jerry
gathered the impression that Hobo was being held responsible for driving
Aunt Abigail into the pear-tree. Corrected on this point, his face
suddenly acquired an expression of extreme seriousness.

"I saw long 'bout noon--but 'tain't likely that had anything to do with
it."

"What was it?" cried the girls in chorus, each conscious of a chilly
sensation in the neighborhood of the spine. And Amy added fiercely, "If
you know anything, Jerry, tell it quick! We're losing lots of time."

"Well, it was a band of gypsies."

There was a minute of awed silence. "But you don't think--" Amy began,
and paused helplessly.

"I don't think anything but--well, they had three wagons--you know the
kind--and in the bottom of the last one, I could see somebody lying
stretched out and all covered over with a blanket. I thought most likely
one of the men had been drinking and was just sleeping it off. But, of
course--"

Jerry paused, overwhelmed at the sight of the horror depicted on the
faces of his auditors. Vainly he rack