fering himself. It was awful, Bessie,
and if you hadn't followed me and had a chance to sneak in there and
cheer me up, I don't know what I would have done."

"We'll have to tell what we know about what happened to us, I suppose,"
said Bessie. "I don't like the idea of that, but Miss Eleanor says we
can't help it; that the law will make us do it."

"Oh, I think it will be good fun. We'll get our names in the
newspapers, Bessie, and maybe there will be pictures of us. I won't
have any trouble telling them, either. I don't believe I'll ever
forget the things that happened to us that day, if I live to be a
hundred years old."

"No, neither shall I."

They had no more chance to discuss the matter, for just then they heard
the voice of Eleanor Mercer, the Guardian of their Camp Fire, calling
them. When they answered her call, finding her in the opening of her
own tent, her face was very grave.

"I've just had a letter from Charlie Jamieson, my cousin, the lawyer,"
she said. "I wrote to him about the extraordinary attempt that this
gypsy made to kidnap Dolly, and of how certain we were that Mr. Holmes
was back of it."

"I wish we knew why Mr. Holmes is so anxious to get hold of me, or to
get me into the same state I came from, so that Farmer Weeks can keep
me there until I'm twenty-one," said Bessie, looking worried.

"I wish so, too, Bessie," said Eleanor, anxiously. "I don't know how
much Dolly knows about this business, but I'm very much afraid that she
may be drawn into it from now on. And Mr. Jamieson agrees with me."

"Why, how is that possible?" asked Bessie. "You don't mean that they
may try to take her away?"

"I don't know, Bessie. That's the worst part of it. You see, they may
think she knows too much for it to be safe to leave her out of any
plans they are making now. We don't know what those plans are. This
last time, you see, Mr. Holmes evidently thought he had a splendid
chance to get hold of you through this gypsy, without being suspected
himself."

"He thought everyone would just blame the gypsy and never think about
him at all, you mean?"

"You see, the gypsy misunderstood--or rather Mr. Holmes misled him by
accident. He thought Dolly was Bessie, and the other way around. So
Dolly really suffered in your place that time, Bessie."

"I'm very glad I did!" said Dolly, stoutly.

"I know that, Dolly. You're not selfish, no matter what your other
faults may be. But I think you've