The record-union., 1894-04-07

lady with a reminiscential sigh"
Have you seen the bands tinker
within few days? They call him
tinker Bob.'n
"Guess he's the old man that done our
mendin'. Must allow he done it better n
them Portland timers. Mighty cheap,
| too, though me and Mrs. Nason-she's
the housekeeper, Mrs. Mason is-kept
our eyes mighty close on him. Three
days ago, that was"
did he sing and whistle all sorts of
| tunes in time with his work."
Should think so! Couldn't git no rest
| from it. You'd thought band'd come
to Raymond"
THAT'S Bob Stanley, surer'
Sure" said husky, trem bling voice
from a frowsy, gypsy head, which at that
couple at the little parlor window.
''Sure! But, master Ted Northup, ee's
the miserablest and forlornest gypsy
tinker as never trod road. Lord! But
It's life t look on ye again, Ted North
up"
| The latter sprang to the window, pulled
| the tinker bodily into the room, rushed
| him back and forth joyously as the dis
| traught landlady followed the pair to lay
the dust with her apron as best she
might. The disturbance brought to her
| ald the housekeeper, Mrs. Mason, who
pleasantly ventured the remark that
| something is always happenin' at Ray
| mond." and when the exuberance OF the
| greeting had somewhat worn away Ted
| Northup, with glowing face. brought for
ward the old gypsy, whose uncovered
head was ducking and bobbing with:
Mrs. Smith Mrs. Smith! Here g
| the other He's dusty and travel-stained
| and not what you might call handsome,
but he's the noblest old gypsy rascal in
| the world! Whatever he wants. any
time, let him have it, Charge it TO me!
There's nothing too good for Bob Stan
| ley. Put everything to my score And
here you, Leroy" to the stable boy by
the inn door, put that team away; lively,
| now! By George! But there's Bob's
donkey, too! Give him best the stable S
got. and charge that to me, too. And
Mrs. Smith, get US the finest dinner this
old tavern ever knew since dear Nat
Hawthorne's day! It's all right, now,
ladies; all right. Pm not crazy! Why.
ii there was just one more with US, Mrs.
Smith, we'd buy the whole tavern.
wouldn't we Bob?"
so hus would; so hus would. An
hus'll git th' tother now"
My" said Mrs. Smith on her way to
the kitchen to her housekeeper, "every-
things happenin' to-day"
And comm in heaps, to boot" in
sisted her companion, as the two disap-
peared leaving Ted Northup and the
gypsy earnestly and gravely consulting
together.
A few hours later the two men had as
certained that the gypsy band had really
broken camp at Dingley'S and disap-
peared. None of the country folk knew
their destination or cared. a mile or
two beyond the village highway divides
into three forks. One leads to the White
Mountains. another to the farms among
the northern hills, and the third winds
to the east around witching chain Of
lakes.
At these forks they were baffled in
their pursuit. The roads were equally
worn, and the indications they sought
were difficult to secure The farmhouses
roundabout were sparse, and their occu
pants could tell them nothing. They
were determined upon Cetta's rescue. but
their plan wholly depended upon condi-
tions which they could not foresee.
Bob" asked Northup discouragedly
at last, ''are you sure that Chief Reynolds
is off for the White Mountains"
"Them's th' words ee said. Ee ne'er
told me false afore."
Northup had weighed gypsy character
long and we'll. He reasoned that when
band, the duplicity which the gypsy
never fails of employing on all occasions
with Gorgios in whom he does not
wholly cOnhde, would be his immedi-
ate attitude to the gypsy he no longer
trusted.
Then. Bob Stanley, you may depend
upon it they went in precisely the oppo-
site direction!'
"W'y, an 'ow is that?''
Because to them you are no longer a
gypsy, Bob!'
The tinker blew great whistle of sur
prise through his pursed lips, immedi-
ately fell upon all tours at the forks of
the road, and began examining every
blade of grass, bramble and each broken
copse-branch beside the highway.
Northup understood him instantly and
at once followed his example. He scru-
tinized the hard surfaces OF the roads be-
between the tracks and the matted grasses
at either side. Suddenly an exclamation
of triumph burst from his lips.
Jupiter Ammon! Bob Stanley, 1 was
right. Here it is. See Lucetta's pat
teran"
Their faces were instantly together in
the gathering twilight, almost against the
old stone road. What they saw was
tiny cross like this: