you are past the place where she was
hidden, you must start running. I will try to catch up with you and go
with you, but do not wait for me."

"I don't quite understand," Bessie began.

But now Lolla was the general, brooking no defiance. She stamped her
foot.

"It does not matter whether you understand or not," she said sharply.
"If you want me to save your friend and get back to the others you must
do as you are told, and quickly. Now, come."

They went on up the trail, and, at the bend just below the spot where
she had broken through to reach Dolly before, Bessie waited while Lolla,
who had recognized the place from Bessie's description of it, crept
forward to make sure that the way was clear.

"All right," she whispered. "Come on."

Silently, but as swiftly as they could, they crept past the place, and,
when they were out of sight stopped.

"Now, you will know my song when you hear it?"

"Yes, indeed, Lolla. Why, what have you got there?"

"What I need to make Peter come with me," laughed Lolla. "See, a fine
meal, is it not? I got it at the camp. Let him smell that stew and he
would follow me out of the woods."

Bessie began to understand Lolla's plan at last. She was going to tempt
Peter to betray his orders from his friend by appealing to his stomach.
And Bessie wondered again, as she had many times since she had met
Lolla, at the cunning of the gypsy girl.

Her confidence in Lolla was complete by now, and she did not at all mind
waiting as she saw the little brightly clad figure disappear amidst the
green of the trail.

It was some time, however, before she heard any signs that indicated
that Lolla had obtained any results. And then it was not the song she
heard, but Lolla's clear laugh, rising above the heavy tones of Peter.

"Oh, oh! You would give me orders when I bring you breakfast? No, no,
Peter; that won't do. Come, she is safe there; come and eat with me,
where she cannot put a spell on your food to make it choke you."

"Do you think she would do that?"

That was Peter's voice, stupid and filled with doubt. Bessie laughed at
Lolla's cleverness. Peter, she thought, would be just the sort of man to
yield to the fears of superstition.

"I know she would; she hates us. Come, Peter; does it not look good?"

"Give it to me. There, I'll catch you--"

Then there was a sound of scuffling and running, but Bessie, noticing
that it drew further and further away, laughed. Lolla was a real
stra