ie! 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. In the
struggle a letter fell from his pocket, and Bessie picked it up.
Suddenly, as she was looking at it idly, she saw something that made her
cry out in surprise, and the next moment she and Miss Mercer were
reading it together.

"Get this girl, Bessie King, and I will pay you a thousand dollars," it
read. "She is dark, and goes around with a fair girl called Dolly. It
will be easy, and if you once get them to me and out of the woods, I
will pay you the money, and see that you are not in danger of being
arrested. I will back you up."

"Who wrote that letter? Turn over, quickly!" cried Eleanor.

"I know without looking," said Bessie. "Now we can guess why he was so
reckless; why he took such chances! He thought I was Dolly, because of
that mistake about our hair! Yes, see; it is Mr. Holmes who sent him
this letter!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE GYPSY'S MOTIVE

But, despite the revelation of that letter, the gypsy himself maintained
a sullen silence when efforts were made to make him tell all he knew and
the reason for his determined effort to kidnap Dolly. He snarled at his
captors when they, asked him questions, and so enraged Andrew and the
other guides by his refusal to answer that only Eleanor's intervention
saved him from rough handling.

"No I won't let you use violence, Andrew," said Eleanor, firmly. "It
would do no good. He won't talk; that is his nature. You have him now,
and the law will take him from you. There isn't any question of his
guilt; there will be evidence enough to convict him anywhere, and he
will g