y here when we want to go on! You are bad, wicked men!"

"Yes, little Miss," was the answer, with a shout of laughter, "we _are_
bad, wicked men! Now what are you going to do about it? You don't fancy
for a minute that you can get away, do you?"

This silenced Marjorie, for there was no answer to such a question. Her
rage had spent itself in her impetuous speech, and she knew of course
that two children could not get away from this band of villains if they
were not allowed to do so. But she did not cry. Her feelings were too
wrought up for that. She sat where they had placed her, and tried bravely
to conceal the fright and fear that were every moment growing stronger
within her. She gave one imploring glance at King, and he came over and
sat beside her. He took her hand in a tight clasp, implying that whatever
happened they would face it together.

"Keep 'em there for the present," growled the man who seemed to be the
spokesman, and then he and the other man went away, leaving the children
in care of the three gypsy women.

Although apparently the women paid little attention to their young
prisoners, King and Midget could easily see that the eyes of their
jailers were ever alert, and watching their slightest movement. Had they
tried to cut and run, they would have been caught before they reached the
door. But no heed was paid when they whispered together, and so they were
able to hold a long conversation which was unheard, and even unnoticed by
the others.

"You know, Mops, what has happened?" whispered King.

"No, I don't; what do they want of us?"

"Why, we're kidnapped and held for ransom. Those men have probably gone
out now to send letters to Father about the ransom money."

"Oh, then Father'll pay it, and we'll get away."

"It isn't so easy as that. They have lots of fussing back and forth. We
may be here a long time. I say, Mops, you're a brick not to cry."

"I'm too mad to cry. The idea of their keeping us here like this! It's
outrageous! Why, King, by this time we would have been in Pelton. Just
think how worried Father and Mother must be!"

"Don't think about that, Mops, or you will cry sure. And I will, too!
Let's think how to get away."

But thinking was of little use, as there was no way to get away but to
run out at the door, and an attempt at that would be such certain failure
that it was not worth trying.

So the children sat there in dumb misery, silently watching the gypsy
women as they