The trail that Bessie followed, as she knew, was leading her directly
away from Loon Pond and the gypsy camp, but that did not disturb her,
since she had expected the gypsy to bear away from his companions. Her
mind was working quickly now, and she wondered just how far the gypsies
were likely to go in support of their reckless companion.

She knew that the bonds among these nomads were very strong, but there
was another element in this particular case that might, she thought,
complicate matters. The man who had carried Dolly off was engaged to be
married to the dark-eyed girl they had talked with, and it was possible
that that fact might make trouble for him, and prevent him from
receiving the aid of his tribe, as he would surely have done in any
ordinary struggle with the laws of the people whom the gypsies seemed to
despise and dislike.

Undoubtedly the girl's parents, if she had any, would resent the slight
he was casting upon their daughter, and if they were powerful or
influential in the tribe, they would probably try to get him cast out,
and cause the other gypsies to refuse him the aid he was probably
counting upon.

The most important thing, Bessie still felt, was to find out where Dolly
was to be hidden. And, as she pressed on, tired, but determined not to
give up what seemed to her to be the best chance of rescuing her chum,
Bessie looked about constantly for some fresh evidence of Dolly's
presence.

But luck was not to favor her again. Sharp as was her watch, there were
no more torn pieces of Dolly's dress to guide her, and, even had Bessie