It was two days later, very early in the morning, when Nat went down to the “enclosure” to feed the lonely birds remaining in the cage, that he found one of those—a carrier which had been stolen, perched contentedly on its own particular box!

“Hello!” called out the young man, in delight. “Where did you come from? So an Archangel did ‘make good,’ as Tavia said. Well, I’m right glad to see you, Gabriel,” he told the prodigal. “Come down here and eat. You must be hungry.”

As if the bird understood, it promptly fluttered down to Nat, and came obediently up to the hand that held some inviting food.

“What’s that on your—A message!” Nat interrupted himself. “Looks like it. Here, Gabriel, let me get that note off your leg,” and he proceeded to untie from the bird’s foot a scrap of paper. “Thought so,” went on the boy, as if the bird had been taking a more active part in the conversation than that of fluttering its wings and cooing happily. “A message—from—Let me see,” and Nat sat down on the edge of the scratch box.

“This is a scrawl, too scrawly for me, I’m afraid. That’s ‘c-o-me’ come,” and he peered through the thin paper at the indistinct letters. “And next is s-w-a-mp, swamp. ‘Come swamp.’ That’s it, all right. It’s a message telling us to go to the swamp,” and Nat jumped up, delighted to have deciphered the queer note.

“Maybe it’s signed,” he reflected, looking over the paper again carefully. “Yes, there’s a letter, and it’s a ‘U,’ u for—for—why, Urania, of course,” he decided instantly. “Well, we’ll go to the swamp, Urania, and see what’s doin’ there. I had an idea right along that we might find the pigeons around the swamp.”

The pigeon was now strutting around in its own confident way, as if the hardships through which it had so lately passed were all forgotten, and only the freedom of the Cedars, with all the good “pickings” and the brook berries to nibble at, were now questions to be considered.

“Go ahead, Gabriel, help yourself. Take more and plenty of it,” said Nat, as he started off.

Nat was not long in reaching the house and making his find known to the folks there. Dorothy read and re-read the message that the bird had brought, and declared she had been positive all along that a clue to the two burglaries would come through Urania.

“Now, that’s what I call good, sensible telepathy,” said Tavia, when her turn came ’round to read the wonder note. “Pencil and paper and a few words—even though they be rather—well, I should call them ‘spooky,’” and she smoothed the bit of precious paper out carefully on the palm of her hand.

“But what’s the answer?” demanded Ned. “Why should the girl order us to the swamp? Couldn’t she as well come here and put us next the game?”

“No,” answered Dorothy decisively. “I have been trying to get a word with Urania for the last two days—since the night the silver was stolen, and every time I see her, she darts away like a wild deer. She seems afraid to speak to me, as if some one were watching her.”

“More like it,” agreed Nat. “She knows about the birds and the goods and they (the other gypsies) know that she will give them away if she gets the chance, so they are keeping the chance at a distance. Then, she was inspired, yes, I would call it inspired” (for both Tavia and Ned had attempted to faint when Nat grew eloquent). “I say she was inspired,” he repeated, “to send the message a la pigeon. Now it’s ‘up to us’ to go to the swamp and do the rest.”

“No, I insist,” said Dorothy, with marked emphasis, “that I must go first. I must, if possible, see Urania, and by some sign find out from her how the ground lays. Then, if all is ready, we may proceed to the swamp.”

“ Aladdin and the seven Robbers were not in it with this stunt,” exclaimed Tavia, with a hearty laugh. “I hope I don’t get locked in the cave. This is certainly mysterious. I suppose we will have to get out our boots to go a-swamping. I tried that gully once, and came out wiser than I went in. Also heavier. I brought back with me a ton of splendid yellow mud.”

“Now, the thing for you all to do,” advised Dorothy, with much seriousness, “is to keep this matter very quiet. Don’t say a word about it to any one, remember, not even to John. Then, I’ll go out and try to see Urania, and find out what it all means. When I come back, which I will do in an hour at the most, we can go to the swamp and—”

“And swamp the swampers,” interrupted Nat. “I had made up my mind to swat the fellow I would find guilty of swiping those birds, but now I’m content to swamp and swat the swipers.”

“Great,” admitted Ned. “But first catch your bird, that’s the old way, I believe. After you have the bird, you may turn on the swipsy swampy swipping.”

“Couldn’t I go with you, Doro?” asked Tavia, “you might need some protection. There’s no telling what our friends may want to steal next.”

“Oh, I’m not a bit afraid,” replied Dorothy. “I know the folks at the camp.”

“But just the same,” cautioned Ned, “it might be more prudent to take Tavia along. I have heard there are other gypsies about than those in the camp. And two girls are better than one, if it is only a case of yell.”

“But if Urania sees any one with me she is sure to hide,” protested Dorothy. “She has been running away from me for days.”

“All the more reason why she might run towards me,” insisted Tavia. “Now, Doro, we usually let you have your own way, but in this particular case you may have noticed that a reward is at stake, and I just love rewards. So I’m going.”

At this Tavia picked up a light parasol that stood in a recess of the porch, and dashing it up jauntily, started off down the path with the protesting Dorothy.

The young men waved a “good luck” to the messengers, then they made their way to the “enclosure,” to fully investigate the “carrier” that had brought the clue to the captivity of its mates.

The girls had but a short distance to walk to the camp, and before they reached the grassy sward that surrounded the home of the gypsies, they had caught sight of Urania.

“There she is,” declared Tavia, as a flash of bright skirts darted through the bushes.

“Yes,” agreed Dorothy, “that is Urania, but she has seen us and is getting away.”

“Then I’ll head her off,” said Tavia, making a sudden turn and running in the direction the gypsy girl was taking.

“But you won’t meet her that way,” called Dorothy. “You can’t cross the spring. I’ll go this way. She must either stay in the deep brush, or come out at the end of the path.”

“Oh, I see you know the trail,” answered Tavia. “Well, ‘it’s up to you then.’ I’ll stand guard. And, besides, your shoes are stronger than mine, so a dash through the spring will not give you the same brand of pneumonia that might be ‘handed out’ to me. So long!”

At this the two girls parted, Dorothy taking a roundabout path into the deep wood, while Tavia serenely sat herself down to enjoy a late picking of huckleberries, that were hiding on a bush just at her elbow.

For a few minutes Tavia was so engrossed in eating the fresh fruit she entirely forgot her “picket duty,” and when she finally did straighten up to see where Dorothy might be going, that young lady was not only out of sight, but likewise out of hearing!

Alarmed, Tavia shouted lustily, but no answer came to her call.

“She may not be able to call back without fear of arousing the bad gypsies,” thought Tavia, “All the same, I wish I had seen which way she went.”

With increasing anxiety Tavia waited at the turn of the path. Every rustle through the leaves, every chirp of a bird, startled the girl. Surely this was a deep woods for a young girl like Dorothy to be entering alone. And after Tavia assuring Dorothy’s cousins she would go with her, and look out for her! Finally, as the minutes grew longer, and no trace of Dorothy appeared, Tavia could no longer stand the nervous strain, and she determined to go straight to the gypsy camp, and there make inquiries.

“What if it does get Urania into trouble,” she argued. “We can’t afford to lose trace of Dorothy for that.”

Quickly Tavia made her way through the brush over to the canvas houses, and there in front of one of the tents she encountered the woman Melea.

“Have you seen Miss Dale?” asked Tavia, without any preliminaries. “She started through the woods and I can’t find her.”

“Hasn’t been around here lately,” replied the woman with evident truthfulness. “Last I saw her she came down with some clothes for Tommie. That was days ago.”

“Where’s Urania?” demanded Tavia next.

“Oh, she ain’t around here any more,” answered Melea. “She got too sassy—didn’t know which side her bread was buttered on, and her father just ‘shooed’ her off.”

“Off where?” insisted Tavia, now fearful that Dorothy would fall into the hands of those who were intent upon punishing Urania, and who, therefore, might take revenge upon Urania’s friends also.

“I don’t know where she’s gone,” snapped the woman, turning impatiently to go inside the tent.

“But being a good fortune teller,” said Tavia, “can’t you guess? Didn’t I see her running through the woods a short time ago?”

“I guess not,” sneered the woman. “If you did, it must have been her ghost. She ain’t around these parts,” and at this the woman entered the tent, drawing the flap down as she did so.

“Well!” exclaimed Tavia aloud, “this is interesting. But not altogether comfortable. I see we will have to get a searching committee out, and I had better make arrangements promptly.”

A half-hour later Ned, Nat and Tavia reached the spot in the wood where the two girls had parted.

“Are you sure she took that path?” Ned demanded of Tavia.

“Positive,” replied the frightened girl. “I just sat down here to wait for her, and she went completely out of sight.”

“It might have been better to watch which way they went—might have seen the bushes move,” ventured Nat. Then, noting that Tavia was inclined to become more excited, he added: “Of course, she must be around here somewhere. There is really no cause for alarm. She may be hiding, just to give us a scare.”

“Oh, Dorothy would never do that,” sighed Tavia. “I can’t imagine what could become of her. And Urania is gone, too. They must be together.”

“You take that path and I will work through the bushes,” said Nat to Ned. “This swamp must open out somewhere, and I’ll bet we find the girls in that ‘open.’”

Tavia called and whistled, while the boys hunted and yelled. The “yodle” (a familiar call used always by the boys, Dorothy and Tavia), was given so often the very woods seemed to repeat the call.

It was becoming more and more discouraging, however, for, in spite of all efforts, not an answer came back, and no trace of the missing ones could be obtained.

Finally Nat shouted to his brother to follow him, as he “had struck a new trail.”

“Come along, Tavia,” Ned called in turn. “This woods may be the swallowing kind, and you might get gobbled up too. Keep close to us now.” There was no need to urge the girl in that direction, for the woods had indeed a terror for her now, and she felt more inclined to run straight home than to help further in the search. But this, she knew, would look cowardly, so she determined to follow the boys into the marshy wilderness.

It was a rough way—that winding path, for the thick brush grew so closely over it that only the bend of the bushes showed there had been a path there, and that it was now seldom, if ever, used, save as a run for frightened rabbits, or a track for the hounds that followed them.

“There!” exclaimed Nat. “See that open? Didn’t I tell you we would find one? And there—what’s that over there at the hill? A cave, as I live. Now we are ‘going some.’”

“But, oh, Nat!” whispered Tavia, who had come up very close to him. “Look! There are men—over there! See, by that tree! Oh, I shall die, I am so frightened! They may have guns!”

“Well, so have we for that matter. You just keep your nerve. No danger that those fellows will attack us,” and the young man clapped his hand on his hip pocket to indicate the surety of his weapon there. Ned, at that same time, had caught sight of the men hiding. He came over to where Tavia and his brother stood.

“Don’t let them see us,” he cautioned. “Just get back of that clump of bushes, and we will both fire together. They’ll skip then, I guess.”

Without moving a bush, or rustling a leaf, the trio crept behind the thick blackberry vines, and the next moment two shots rang out through the gully! The report echoed against the very hill where the men were crouching.

Instantly they sprang out into the open space. There were two in number and Tavia recognized them. They were the “bad gypsies,” those turned out of the camp and away from the camping grounds where the other families of gypsies had their quarters.

“Gypsies!” she whispered to Ned.

“Hush!” he cautioned, with a finger on his lips.

Only for a moment did the men stay in sight. Evidently they were trying to locate the direction whence the shots came, but not being able to do so, they, realizing the “enemy” had the entire advantage of them, turned and fled!

Up the hill, across the path, out of the woods and even along the roadside they ran—ran as if a band of constables were at their heels.

“Didn’t I tell you?” said Ned. “Look at them go,” as from the higher position on the hill side the men could still be seen making their escape.

“A pity to let them go,” murmured Nat, “but we’ve got to find the girls.”

“Oh, I would like to go up a tree and stay there,” sighed Tavia, who was still badly frightened.

“Guess we’re all ‘up a tree’ this time,” answered Nat, lightly. “But I’m for the cave. Come along, Ned, and keep your gun handy.”

Tavia followed the boys across the open sward although she trembled so, she could scarcely make one foot step in front of the other. What if men should be in the cave, and pounce out on them!

“You needn’t worry,” Ned assured her, seeing her white face. “There are no more gypsies in this hole. They would have answered the shots same as the others did, if they had been about.”

“Neat little cave,” remarked Nat, as they came nearer the hut. “Didn’t know we had anything like that around here.”

They were now directly in front of the “hole in the hill.” The top of this cave was covered with grass and ground, so that from the upper part of the hill, where the walk was common, the cave would never be suspected. But that the place was lined with brick and stone was plain to our friends, for they stood now in front of the opening, and this was a perfectly shaped door, surrounded by even rows of bricks.

“An old ice house,” declared Ned. “There must have been a big house around here and this was the ice storage.”

“Yes, there are ruins just over there,” said Tavia, indicating a spot at some distance down a gully.

“Call,” said Ned. “Tavia you call, they might be frightened at the sound of a man’s voice if they are in there.”

“Dorothy! Dorothy!” called Tavia, standing as near the door of the cave-hut as she dared trust herself to go.

Then they waited.

“Someone is moving inside,” said Ned, “I’m going in. She may not be able to come out.”

“Oh, don’t go in,” pleaded Tavia, “they may only be trying to trap you.”

“Well, I’ll take chances,” insisted the boy.

“And I’m with you,” declared his brother. “We’ve got to see who is there. Keep your gun handy, Ned.”

So saying, and each with a revolver ready in his hand, the brothers entered the cave.

Tavia dropped on her knees! It was one of those awful moments when only Providence seems strong enough to help.

But scarcely had she buried her face in her hands than she heard her name called.

“Come on, Tavia,” said Nat, appearing at the door of the cave, “We’ve found her all right, come inside and see!”

Fear fled with the words.

Found Dorothy! Oh, and in that awful place!

The girl sprang from her knees and she, too, entered the dark place.

“Dorothy!” she cried as the lost one fell into her arms. “Oh, Dorothy dear! What you must have suffered!”

“Yes, but let us get her outside,” insisted Ned. “This is no place to revive her. Come on Coz. You needn’t be the least bit frightened. We saw the fellows run over the hill. They’re in another town by this time. Just hang on to me. There, now I’ve put the gun away, so you won’t be afraid of that!”

“Oh,” gasped Dorothy, as she breathed the fresh air again. “What an awful experience! But, oh, I am so glad now—now I’m safe again,” and she sank exhausted on the grassy field.

“You poor darling,” whispered Tavia, fondling her lovingly. “And to think that I let you get entirely out of my sight. And I had promised to take care of you. Oh, Dorothy, how can you forgive me!” and at this Tavia burst out crying—the nervous strain of the past few hours summing up now into the girls’ ever ready cure-all—a good cry!

“Now, do you girls think you could stay here without—committing suicide or being kidnapped, while Ned and I just go in and explore?” asked Nat. “We saw the ‘goods’ in there, and there’s no time like the present.”

Dorothy and Tavia promised to “keep out of mischief,” so the two brothers again entered the cave.