“What did it mean?” asked Julian.

“It meant “Don’t beg here. Mean people. No good!” ” said Henry, with a laugh. “That’s what he said, anyway!”

“We might ask the little gypsy boy who came with the skewbald horse,” said Anne. “He’ll probably show us some messages. I’d like to learn some. You never know when anything like that could come in useful!”

“Yes. And we’ll ask him why the gypsies go to Mystery Moor,” said Julian, getting up and dusting the crumbs off his coat. “They don’t go there for nothing, you may be sure!”

“Where’s old George gone?” asked Dick. “I do hope she’s not going to be silly.”

George was in one of the stables, grooming a horse so vigorously that it was most surprised. Swish-swish-swish-swish! What a brushing! George was working her intense annoyance out of herself. She mustn’t spoil things for the boys and Anne! But oh, that horrible Henrietta, meeting them like that, pretending to be a boy. Heaving their luggage about, playing a joke on them! But surely they might have guessed!

“Oh, there you are, George, old thing,” said Dick’s voice at the stable-door. “Let me help. Gosh, aren’t you brown! Just as many freckles as ever!”

George grinned unwillingly. She tossed Dick the brush. “Here you are, then! Do you and Ju want to go riding at all? There are plenty of horses to choose from here.”

Dick was relieved to see that George appeared to have got over her rage. “Yes. It might be fun to go off for the day. What about tomorrow? We might explore a little of Mystery Moor.”

“Right,” said George. She began to heave some straw about. “But not with That Girl,” she announced, from behind the straw she was carrying.

“What girl?” asked Dick, innocently. “Oh, Henry, you mean? I keep thinking of her as a boy. No, we won’t have her with us. We’ll be just the five as usual.”

“That’s all right then,” said George happily. “Oh, here’s Julian. Give a hand, Ju!”

It was lovely to have the two boys again, joking, laughing, teasing. They all went out in the fields that afternoon and heard the tales of the camp. It was just like old times, and Timmy was as pleased as anyone else. He went first to one of the four, then to another, licking each one as he went, his tail wagging vigorously.

“That’s three times you’ve smacked me in the face with your tail, Timmy,” said Dick, dodging it. “Can’t you look behind yourself and see where my face is?”

“Woof,” said Timmy happily, and turned round to lick Dick, wagging his tail in Julian’s face this time!

Somebody squeezed through the hedge behind them. George stiffened, feeling sure that it was Henrietta. Timmy barked sharply.

It wasn’t Henrietta. It was the little gypsy boy. He came up to them. There were pale streaks down his dirty little face, made by tears that had run through the dirt!