CHAPTER IX--THE GYPSIES AGAIN
When the rain stopped, Bobby went around to the other entrance andreported herself to Miss Carrington. That teacher always doubted Bobby'sexcuses, and this time she shook her head over the girl's tardiness.
"You told me you had plenty of time to do your errand within the limitof the recess, Miss Hargrew," said Gee Gee. "Do better next time,please."
"She always acts as though she thought I had an India rubberimagination," muttered Bobby, to her nearest seatmate, "and that I wasalways stretching it."
"Miss Hargrew, please refrain from communicating in lesson time!"snapped the ever-watchful teacher.
"Dear me!" murmured Bobby. "She's got me again. I _do_ have the worstluck."
And then she wondered what Miss Carrington knew about the strange Gypsygirl, or what Margit knew about Gee Gee.
"I'd like to get better acquainted with that girl," thought Bobby."There is a mystery about her--and Gee Gee is in it."
But she said nothing to any of the other juniors, judging it best tokeep her own counsel. Meanwhile she kept a keen lookout for the girl toappear about the school building again. Several days passed, however,and Bobby saw nothing of her.
Meanwhile the girls who were earnest in the work of putting Central Highahead in the inter-school athletic competition worked hard on the fieldand under Mrs. Case's eye in the gymnasium.
Bobby was really doing her best on the track. Never had she settled downto such thorough work in any branch of athletics as she had in thiseffort to make a record for the quarter-mile. Central High needed thepoints that a champion sprinter could win, just as the school needed thepoints putting the shot, and the broad jump, would add to its record.
Bobby, the year before, had acted as coxswain of the eight-oared crew;and she had played all season on the big basketball team--the championnine. But this running was different work.
Now she had no teammates to encourage her, or to keep her up to themark. It was just what she could do for the school by herself.
"Just by your lonesome, Bobby," Laura Belding told her. "To win thequarter-mile will mean two whole points in June. Think of that! And youcan do it."
"I don't know," returned the other girl, in some despondency. "GeeGee'll likely get something on me before the June meet, and thenwhere'll we be?"
"But you don't _have_ to do things to make Miss Carrington give youdemerits."
"Bah! I don't have to do anything at all to get demerits. She's justexpecting me to do something all the time, and she 'jumps' me withoutgiving me a chance. Any other girl in the school can cut up much worsethan I do and never get a sour look; but I--oh, dear!"
"You see what it is to have a reputation for mischief," said Laura, halfinclined to laugh. "Can't you cut out the frolic for this one term? Cureyourself of practical joking and 'joshing' poor Miss Carrington."
"Great Caesar!" ejaculated Bobby. "How could I ever do it?"
Nevertheless, with all her reckless talk, she was really trying her verybest to keep out of difficulties in school, and on the other hand tomake the best time possible on the cinder track.
Mrs. Case began to try her out now and then, and held the watch on her.Bobby wanted to know how fast she made the quarter; but the instructorput up her watch with a smile and a head-shake.
"That I sha'n't tell you, Miss Hargrew. Not yet. You do your best;that's what you are to do. If you fall back, or I see you losing form,you'll hear about it soon enough."
One morning before school-time Bobby heard Mrs. Ballister scolding atthe back door. The old housekeeper did not often scold the maid, for shewas a dear old lady and, as Bobby herself said, "as mild-tempered as alamb." But she heard her say:
"Be off with you! We've nothing for you. Scalawags like you shouldn'tprosper--filling a girl's silly head full of more silliness. Go on atonce!"
Somehow Bobby had a premonition of what the trouble was about. She ranout upon the side porch and saw two Gypsy women coming around the pathfrom the fear of the house. They were the two who had been at QueenGrace Varey's camp that day on the ridge when the girls of Central Highhad had their adventure.
"Here is a little lady," whined the old woman. "She will buy of us,"lifting up her baskets.
"No, no," said Bobby, shaking her head vigorously.
The other woman recognized her and touched the arm of her companionwarningly.
"Surely the little lady will not be unkind to the poor Romany," shewhined. "She does not forget what Queen Grace told her?"
"I want to forget it," declared Bobby, with flushed face. "I havenothing for you. Go away--do!"
"Ah-ha, little lady!" chuckled the woman, with a leer. "You are mistresshere now--and you can send us away. But remember! Your father will bringhome another mistress before mid-summer."
The two women laughed harshly, and turned away, going slowly out of theyard. Bobby remained upon the porch until she had winked back thetears--and bitter tears they were, indeed--and so went slowly in tobreakfast.
"Those horrid 'Gyptians," Mrs. Ballister was saying. "I caught them outthere trying to tell Sally's fortune. They'd make her believe she wasgoing to fall heir to a fortune, or get a husband, or something, andthen we'd lose the best kitchen girl we ever had."
But Bobby felt too serious to smile at the old lady's sputtering.Despite what Laura Belding said, there _must_ be something in thefortunes the Gypsy queen told! How did she know so much about _her?_Bobby asked herself.
She knew that Bobby had no mother and that she was sure to get intotrouble with her teachers. And now the prophecy she had made that herfather would bring home a new wife before mid-summer rankled in BobbyHargrew's mind like a barbed arrow.
For Bobby loved her father very dearly, and had been for years hisconfidante. It had long been agreed between them that she was going tobe his partner in the grocery business, just as though she had been borna boy. And as soon as the little girls were big enough they were to goaway to boarding school, Mrs. Ballister should be relieved of theresponsibility of the house, and Bobby was going to be the real mistressof the Hargrew home.
And suppose, instead of all these things Father Tom should bring home anew mother to reign over them? The thought was ever in Bobby's mindthese days. Not that she had any reason to fear the coming of astep-mother. The only girl at Central High whom she knew that had astep-mother loved her very dearly and made as much of her as though shehad been two real mothers. Sue Blakesley had been without a mother longenough to appreciate even a substitute.
But Bobby and Mr. Hargrew had been such close friends and comrades thatthe girl was jealous of such a possibility as anybody coming into herfather's life who could take her place in any degree. She worried overthe Gypsy's prophecy continually; she wet her pillow at night withbitter tears because of it, and it sobered and changed her to herschoolmates, as we have seen.
It was a very serious and imminent trouble indeed to the warm-hearted,impulsive girl.
On her way to school that morning she chanced to turn the corner intoWhiffle Street just as a dark-browed, shuffling fellow crossed from theother side and trailed along ahead of her toward the schoolhouse. Bobbyknew that black face, and the huge gold hoops in his ears, at once. Itwas the husband of the Gypsy queen.
"Oh, I wonder if the whole encampment is in town hunting for that poorgirl, Margit?" thought Bobby. "They are such strange, wicked folk. Andlook at him--why, that's Gee Gee!"
The lady ahead on the walk, behind whom the Gypsy was walking sostealthily, was none other than Miss Carrington herself. InstantlyBobby's thought flashed to the mysterious inquiries of the girl, MargitSalgo, about the teacher at Central High.
Bobby involuntarily quickened her steps. She was afraid of theseGypsies; but she was curious, too. The whole block was deserted, itseemed, save for herself, Gee Gee, and the man.
Suddenly he hastened his long stride and overtook the teacher. Bobbyknew that the fellow accosted Miss Carrington. The lady halted, andshrank a little. But she did not scr
eam, or otherwise betray fear.
"No, lady. Ah'm no beggar. Ma nyme's Jim Varey an' ah'm honest man, so Ibe. Ah come out o' Leeds, in Yorkshire, an' we be travelin', me an'mine. Wait, lady! Ah've summat tae show ye."
He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a card. He held this card sothat Miss Carrington could read what was printed, or written, on it. Andshe did so, as was evident to Bobby, for she started back a little anduttered a murmured exclamation.
"Ah sees ye knaw ye'r awn nyme, lidy," said Jim Varey, shrewdly. "Yerthe lady we're lookin' for, mayhap. 'Tis private business----"
"I can have no business with you, man," exclaimed Miss Carrington. "Why,you're a Gypsy!"
"Aye. I'm Gypsy. An' so was ma fawther an' mither, an' their fawthersan' mithers before 'em. We'm proud of the Romany blood. An' more'n 'us,lady, has mixed with the Romany--an' in other climes aside Yorkshire.But all Romany is one, wherever vound. Ye knaw that, lidy."
"I don't know what you mean! I don't know what you are talking about!What do you want of me?" cried Miss Carrington, quite wildly.
The man drew closer. Bobby was really frightened, too. She opened herown mouth to shriek for help. But the Gypsy did not touch the teacher.Instead, he said in a low, but perfectly clear, voice, so that Bobbyheard it plainly:
"I would speak to you, lidy, of the child of Belas Salgo."
Miss Carrington uttered a stifled shriek. Bobby sprang forward, findingher own voice now, and using it to good purpose, too. A door banged, anda gentleman ran out of his house and down to the gate, where the Gypsyhad stopped Miss Carrington.
It chanced to be Franklin Sharp, the principal of Central High. JimVarey saw him coming, glanced swiftly around, evidently considered thetime and place unfavorable for further troubling the teacher, and sobroke into a run and disappeared.
Mr. Sharp caught Gee Gee before she fell. But she did not utterly loseconsciousness. Bobby had caught her hand and clung to it. The girl heardGee Gee murmur:
"There was no child! There was no child! Oh! Poor Anne! Poor Anne!"
"Let us take her into the house," said Mr. Sharp, kindly. "That ruffianhas scared her, I believe. Could you identify him, do you think, MissHargrew?"
"Yes, sir," declared Bobby, tremblingly.
But Miss Carrington cried: "Oh, no! Oh, no! Don't go after him--donothing to him."
And she continued to cry and moan while they took her into the house andput her in the care of Mrs. Sharp. That forenoon Gee Gee did not appearbefore her classes at Central High. But she was present at the afternoonsession and Bobby thought her quite as stern and hard as ever. Nor didthe teacher say a word to the girl about the Gypsy, or mention theoccasion in any way.