But how suddenly all had been thrown into a panic of fear at the loss
of Cora! Not a girl to play pranks, in spite of some whispers about
the hotel, those most concerned knew that Cora Kimball was at least
being held a prisoner against her will somewhere; by whom, or with
whom, no one could conjecture.

What really had become of daring, dashing Cora Kimball?

CHAPTER XVIII

KIDNAPPED

"Oh! Where am I?"

"Hush! You are safe! But keep very quiet."

Then Cora forgot--something smelled so strong, and she felt so sleepy.

"We are almost there!"

"But see the lights!"

"They will never turn into the gully!"

"If they do----"

"I'll----"

"Hush!"

"She is a strong girl!"

"So much the better. Give her a drink."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to."

"Do you know what they do now with kidnappers?"

"She's no kid."

"But it's just the same."

"Hold your tongue. You have given me more bother than she has."

"Salvo deserved what he got."

"You deserve something, too," and the older woman, speaking to a young
girl, gave the latter a blow with a whip. The girl winced, and showed
her white teeth. She would some day break away from Mother Hull.

They were riding in a gypsy wagon through the mountains, and it was one
hour after Cora Kimball had been taken away from the porch of the
Tip-Top. The drivers of the wagon were the most desperate members of
the North Woods gypsy clan, and they had not the slightest fear that
the searchers, who were actually almost flashing their lights in to the
very wagon that bore Cora away, could ever discover her whereabouts.

It was close and ill-smelling in that van. Cora was not altogether
unconscious, and she turned uneasily on the bundle of straw deep in the
bottom of the big wagon.

"She is waking," said the girl presently.

"She can now, if she's a mind to. We are in Dusky Hollow."

"I won't be around when she does awake. I don't like it."

"If you say any more, I'll give you a dose. Maybe you--want--to go--to
sleep."

"When I want to I shall," and the black eyes flashed in the darkness.
"We did not promise to----"

"Shut up!" and again that whip rang like the whisper of some frightened
tree.

"Oh, stop!" yelled the girl, "or I shall----"

"Oh, no, you--won't. You just hold--your tongue."

The horses shied, and the wagon skidded. Were they held up?

"Right there, Sam," ordered the driver. "Easy--steady, Ned. Pull over
here