Phoebe, stretched on her cot in the living room, lay staring up into the darkness of the unceiled roof. She tried to think of her father somewhere out on the mountain, but always her thoughts reverted to the new young man with the kind, smiling eyes. Once she chanted in a low voice: "'How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings!'" CHAPTER XVIII. THE MORNING AFTER. Miss Campbell felt no ill effects from the visit of the mountaineers. She had not even thought of ill effects, in fact. Somehow, the presence of Phoebe, unruffled and calm through all the danger, had had its influence on all of them. Even Alberdina's emotions had been hushed by contact with that peaceful nature. It was well past six o'clock before the exhausted household awakened next morning at Percy's trumpet call. Hurrying down before the others, Billie was amazed to see the traveling van drawn up in a clearing at the edge of the grove. Old Dobbin, tethered to a rope, stood nearby peaceably munching his breakfast from a wooden pail. Amy Swinnerton was seated in front of an easel sketching the log cabin and from inside of the van came the crisp voice of Maggie Hook, singing: "'I loved a lass, a fair one, As fair as e'er was seen; She was indeed a rare one, Another Sheba Queen: But, fool as then I was, I thought she loved me, too: But, now alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!'" "Good morning!" cried Billie, running over to the van. "You must have muffled old Dobbin's feet to have crept in so quietly. How is Ri--Mr. Hook?" she added, all in one breath. Maggie popped her head out of the front of the van. She reminded Billie of a little bird peeping from a bird house. "Not 'Mister,'" she called, smiling brightly. "Remember, Billie, that we brothers and sisters of the road never use titles." "Oh, yes, I mustn't forget that I'm one of the fraternity," answered Billie, smiling. "'--Gypsy blood to the Gypsy blood Ever the wide world over,'" called Maggie, with much animation, from the top step of the van. "You'll have to know her better to understand her dual nature, Billie," observed Amy Swinnerton, glancing up from her easel. "After she's been a good housewife and got things shipshape and free from the dust of the road she loves so much, she's ready to turn Gypsy and muss them all up again." "I never mussed anything up in my life," broke in Maggie. "I only clean up other people's musses." "But how is your brother Richard?" persisted Billie. "You see I feel some natural anxiety because I was the one who shot him last night. Has the wound been dressed?" "Shot him?" repeated the other girls. "That was why he made me drive old Dobbin this morning," said Amy. "And to think he never told," broke in Maggie, "and he's gone off now, goodness only knows where." "And he didn't tell you about the attack and how he saved us?" demanded Billie. "Not a word."