The instrument clicked as Mabel hung up the receiver, and turned her still tearful eyes on her mother and her chums. “There, at least the boys will be safe,” she whispered. “But if they can only get your ring, momsey.” “Never mind, dear. It might be worse. Don’t distress yourself over it. We’ll just wait until the boys come back. Perhaps you had better make some coffee and sandwiches. They’ll be cold, for it’s chilly, even if it is nearly June.” “And time to go camping,” added Natalie. Mrs. Anderson looked at her daughter in some surprise. “I haven’t told you yet, momsey,” Mabel said, “but we Camp Fire Girls have been challenged by the boys to go off to the woods at Green Lake, and be real camp fire maidens. We are thinking of doing it. Do you think we might?” “I’ll see. We’ll talk it over later. But now if you’ll light the fire perhaps being busy will make you forget this little trouble.” “It isn’t a little trouble,” declared Mabel. “I shall always feel that it was my fault if mother’s ring is not recovered.” “But you mustn’t, dear,” said Mrs. Anderson gently, putting her arms around her daughter. Mabel sobbed a little, and then, remembering her guests, she regained her composure. “It won’t be as easy as this—getting a meal in camp,” remarked Alice, as she put a match to the gas stove. “But it will be ever so much more fun!” declared Natalie. “Think of sitting beside the sky-blue water, with the birds singing overhead, and eating a meal beside a glowing camp fire.” “Beautiful breath-of-the-pine-tree!” exclaimed Marie. “That is if the camp fire doesn’t smoke.” “They almost always do—at least those I’ve seen always did,” declared Mabel. * * * * * Phil, Blake and Jack had no trouble in persuading one of the policemen to accompany them to the Gypsy encampment. On the way, as they hurried on, they told of what had occurred. “It’s about time something was done to them Gypsies,” declared the officer. “They pretend to tell fortunes—the women folks do—but it’s only an excuse to get around to places and size ’em up, so the men folks can come later, and pick up anything that’s lying around loose. As for horse-trading, they’d stick the wisest white man that ever cinched a saddle. They can doctor old, worn-out nags so they’ll look like racers, but the first time you drive ’em the color runs in the rain, and their manes and tails come unglued. I know Gypsies! I’ll be glad of a chance to help run these out of town!” The boys and officer hurried on. They had left the lighted streets of the town, and were out on a country road leading to the next village. “It isn’t far now,” remarked Phil. “They always have lots of curs around,” suggested Jack. “I hope they don’t nip us in the dark.” “Just go right on boldly,” advised the officer. “If a dog bites you kick it. I’ve got my club.” “It’s too late after a dog bites you,” murmured Blake. “And she was such a pretty girl,” he added.