For a moment Constable Jackson, as he had called himself, staggered to retain his footing, for Blake had used no gentleness in thrusting him to one side.

“Ah—ha!” the man finally managed to gasp, as he steadied himself by seizing a slender sapling. “What do you mean, young man? How dare you lay hands on me? I represent the law, I do!”

“Then I’m sorry for the law,” was Blake’s cool response. “What are you doing here, anyhow? Don’t you know that this is private property? These young ladies rent this camping-ground, and you’re as much a trespasser as if they owned it. What are you doing here, anyhow?” and Blake’s voice was stern.

“I’m not going to answer your questions, young man, unless I want to,” the constable fired back. “And you’re doing a mighty risky thing in interfering with the majesty of the law. I am it!”

“Glad you told me,” murmured the lad, “otherwise I might not have known it,” and he laughed.

“Be careful!” warned the constable. “I can arrest you too, if I like!”

“Arrest!” gasped Natalie, who had somewhat recovered her composure at the advent of Blake. The other boys and girls were not in sight.

“Yes, arrest! I thought I’d make you take back-water.”

“I’m not taking back-water, as you call it, at all,” said Blake sharply, “I am merely curious. What do you mean? Once more I ask why you are here? And if you don’t give an account of yourself, I’ll run you off the place,” and Blake looked very much able to do it, a fact, which even gentle Natalie was gladly aware of at that moment.

“Be careful,” needlessly warned Constable Jackson. “I’m here on account of this—it’s my authority,” and again he tapped the nickel star on his coat.

“Authority for what?” snapped Blake.

“For taking her. I’ve got a warrant!” and he pointed a stubby finger at Natalie. “It calls for the arrest of one Hadee, a Gypsy girl for the ‘feloniously taking, carrying away and converting the same to her own use of one pocket-book, said to contain the sum of fourteen dollars and thirteen cents, the property of Mrs. Josiah Applebaum, with force and arms, contrary to the statutes in such cases made and provided,’” and he drew from his pocket a paper, from which he appeared to have quoted the last few words with great satisfaction. “That’s why I’m here,” the constable went on, “and when I go away I’m going to take her with me!” and he took a step toward Natalie.

“No! No!” she gasped. “There’s some mistake. Oh, Blake!” and she stepped toward the youth.

“There now,” he soothed her. “Don’t you be a bit alarmed. Of course there’s a mistake. You sha’n’t stir a step!”

“Oh, she won’t; eh?” jeered the representative of the law.

“No!” declared Blake. “As she says there has been a mistake, and it’s you who are making it. So you take her for some Gypsy girl; eh?”

“I sure do. The description fits perfect. Dressed like some Indian girl—hair down her back, ribbon around it and all. Of course she’s the one I want!”

“And you say she is Hadee?” asked Blake curiously, making a sign to Natalie not to show that she recognized the name.

“Yes; but that don’t matter. Names is easy made up. Now will you come along peaceable, or not?” and he glared at Natalie.

“I—I—” she began.

“Wait,” spoke Blake, “I’ll answer him. In the first place,” he went on, “this is Miss Natalie Fuller, a friend of mine. With two boy friends, I am camping over at Stony Point. Miss Fuller and four chums are camping here. I can give you their names. I can also refer you to Mr. Henderson, the storekeeper, who knows us all. We might know this Gypsy Hadee you speak of, for some of the girls have had their fortunes told, but I’m positive Miss Fuller has taken no pocket-book. Her costume is that of the Camp Fire Girls’ Association, as we can show you in the official book. Now what do you say?”

“Well, all I’ve got to say that I’ve got a warrant for Hadee,” declared the constable sullenly.

“But not for Miss Fuller,” insisted Blake. “If you’ll use your eyes you’ll see that she isn’t at all like a Gypsy girl, though she does wear her hair that way,” and at this Natalie smiled a little.

“Well, maybe they did make a mistake,” admitted Constable Jackson. Evidently the array of facts that Blake shot at him rather staggered the representative of the law.

“They!” exclaimed Blake. “I think you did.”

“I didn’t mean to,” the man went on. “After I got the warrant I made some inquiries. Some one told me there was Gypsy girls camping over here, and I come.”

“So they take us for Gypsies!” exclaimed Natalie. “Oh, what will the Camp Fire Girls say to this?”

“What about this pocket-book?” asked Blake. “Did a Gypsy really take it?”

“Here’s all I know,” said the constable. “Josiah Applebaum, he lives over on the Woodport road, come to town yist’day and complained to Squire Grover that a Gypsy had visited his wife, told her fortune, and, when she left, the pocket-book that was on the table went too!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Natalie.

“What’d you say?” demanded the constable.

“Nothing,” answered Blake for her, giving his friend a warning look. “Go on.”

“That’s all there is to it. The squire made out the warrant for the girl, who give the name Hadee, though whether it’s her right one or not I don’t know—it’s a heathen name, anyhow.”

“And you came here after her?” questioned Blake.

“Yes, havin’ heard there was Gypsies here.”

“And now you see you’re wrong?”

“Well, you say so. And it don’t exactly look like a Gypsy camp, either,” Mr. Jackson admitted. “Do you know where I can find ’em?”

“Not in the least,” Blake replied. “You’ll have to use your detective abilities. But I advise you to be a little more sure next time, before you make accusations. If I had not come along you might have frightened Miss Fuller.”

“I didn’t mean to,” murmured the man. “Well, I’ll go looking for this Hadee, though I don’t believe there’ll be much money left in th’ pocket-book when I git it,” and he st............