d they take away Helen Porter?"

"I don't know about that last part," said Mrs. Bobbsey; "but a caravan
of gypsies did pass by the house a little while ago. I heard Dinah say
something about the gaily painted wagons, and I looked out in time to
see them rumbling along the street. Then, a little later, I heard Mrs.
Porter calling for Helen, and, on seeing the crowd, I ran out. I was
worried about our children until I saw them coming from the lake, where
they had gone for a row in the boat."

"I can't believe that gypsies took Helen," said Mr. Bobbsey.

"Oh, but she's _gone_!" several neighbors told him. "We can't find her
_anywhere_, and her mother is crying and taking on terribly!"

"Well, it may be that Helen is lost, or has even strayed away after the
gypsies, thinking their wagons were part of a circus, as Nan says
Flossie thought," said Mr. Bobbsey. "But gypsies wouldn't dare take a
little girl away in broad daylight."

As he said this he looked at his own little children and at others in
the crowd, for he did not want them to be frightened.

"Years ago, maybe, gypsies did take little folks," he said, "but they
don't do it any more, I'm sure."

"But where is Helen?" asked John Marsh. "A gypsy man has her, I know,
'cause I saw him take her."

"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, for John was an excitable boy,
sometimes given to imagining things that never happened.

"Course I'm sure," he said. "Cross my heart!" and he did so, while the
other children looked on wonderingly.

"Suppose you go over to Mrs. Porter's house," said Mrs. Bobbsey to the
children's father. "She's worried, I guess, and her husband isn't home
yet. Maybe you can help her. I was just going in when you came along."

"All right, I'll go," said Mr. Bobbsey.

"Can't we come?" asked Freddie, and as he had hold of his little
sister's hand, it was Flossie, of course, whom he included in his
question.

"No, you must go with your mother," said his father, and when the little
fat fireman seemed disappointed Mr. Bobbsey went on: "I guess supper is
almost ready, isn't it, Dinah?"

"Deed it am. An' dere's puddin' wif shaved-up maple sugar scattered ober
de top an'----"

"Oh, I want some of _that_!" cried Flossie. "Come on, Freddie! We can
look for the gypsies after supper."

"And we'll get Helen out of the shiny wagons," added Freddie, as he
hurried toward the Bobbsey home with Flossie, fat Dinah waddling along
after them.

"I'll go with you