Maybe if they catch
him, though, he'll tell why he did it. I think those guides will
frighten him. They're all perfectly furious, and they'll make him sorry
he ever tried to do anything of the sort, I think--Why, Bessie! What's
the matter?"
"Don't turn around, Miss Eleanor. But I saw a pair of eyes, just behind
you. I wonder if he could have sneaked back around and come here?"
"Oh, I wish we'd had one of the men stay, I was afraid of something
like that, Bessie."
"I'm going to find out, Miss Eleanor. I'll pretend I don't suspect
anything, and get up to go into the tent. Then, if it's John, I think
he'll show himself."
She rose, and in a moment their fears were confirmed. John, his eyes
triumphant, stepped out, abandoning the concealment of the hushes.
"Where is the other?" he said. "The one called Bessie--Bessie King? It's
not you I want--"
"Hands up!" cried the voice of Andrew, the chief guide.
And the gypsy, wheeling with a savage cry, faced a half circle of
grinning faces. He made one wild dash to escape, but it was useless, and
in a moment he was on the ground, and his hands were tied.
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