ate the good dinner Sing had ready for us and I turned in for an hour’s sleep but Lucky could not rest, and so after having had not more than forty winks of a doze, I heard him again riding away in search of further evidence.

“It was nearly dusk when he returned and he came on a gallop shouting my name. I was out on the porch in a moment. ‘Ah think Ah’ve hit a trail sure sartin this time,’ he called. I saw that he was leading my horse and a fresh mount that was laden with supplies.

“Uncle Tex rode in just then and seemed surprised to see that we were starting out so near nightfall. He had been to his cabin on Second Peak for several days and so had heard nothing of what had happened. I didn’t wait to explain, but must have mystified him greatly by calling, ‘Keep it dark which way we ride.’”

Virginia nodded for the old man had told her that he was indeed puzzled. “What did you find, brother?” she eagerly inquired.

“The same wagon tracks a mile to the west of where we had seen them before, but we could only find them in sheltered places. Of course in the open they were quickly covered with the drifting sand. We hunted for two days and all we found was this.”

He drew a scarlet silk scarf with fringed edges from his leather coat pocket. “That’s rather conclusive evidence that Lucky is right, isn’t it?” his sister inquired. “Shouldn’t you say that a gypsy woman might have used that scarf as a head covering?”

“I don’t know much about gypsies,” the lad replied, and the tale being told, he leaned back wearily.

It was the quiet Margaret who noticed how truly tired her guardian looked. “You’ve been over-working, Malcolm,” she said solicitously. “It has been a terrible strain for you to keep awake day and night with all the worry about the lost yearlings.”

The lad smiled down at her as he rose. “I think we’ll have to change places, Mistress Margaret,” he said. “I’ll be the ward and you the guardian since you look after me so well.” The sweet face of the girl was flushed, but, as Betsy had at that moment twisted the scarlet scarf about her own head, no one noticed Megsy.

When Malcolm was gone, the merry maid skipped lightly about on her toes shaking an imaginary tambourine.

“Betsy, you make a very fine gypsy,” Babs said, then, noting that Virginia sat, quietly gazing at the fire as though she were deep in thought, Barbara rested a hand on her arm as 

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