He looked at Julian in a threatening way.

“Take that scowl off your face,” said Julian. “I’m glad you’ve seen sense. Clear out now. Go off with the others tomorrow and I’ll see that Sniffer has the horse in a short time.”

The man moved to the door and slid out like a shadow. Julian went to watch him across the yard, wondering whether, out of spite, the man might try to steal a hen, or one of the ducks sleeping beside the pond.

But there was no sudden clucking, no loud quack. The man had gone as silently as he had come.

“Most peculiar, all this!” said Julian, latching the door again. He tied a piece of thick string over it his side, so that it could not be lifted from outside. “There! Now if the gypsy comes again, he’ll find he can’t get in. What a nerve, coming here in the middle of the night like that!”

He got back into the straw. “He must have fallen right over my foot,” he said, snuggling down. “He woke me up with an awful jump. Good thing for Clip that we were sleeping out here tonight, or he’d be dragging along a heavy cart tomorrow, and going lame again. I don’t like that fellow!”

He fell asleep again and so did Dick. Clip slept too, his leg feeling easier. How glad he had been that day not to have to drag along the heavy caravan!

The boys told Captain Johnson next morning about the gypsy’s midnight visit. He nodded. “Yes, I ought to have warned you that he might come. They’re not always very good to their horses. Well, I’m glad you sent him off. I don’t reckon Clip’s leg will be ready for walking on till the day after tomorrow. There’s no harm in giving the poor creature a few days’ rest. Sniffer can easily take the caravan on after the others.”

It looked as if that day was going to be fun. After all the horses had been seen to, and many odd jobs done, the four, with Timmy, planned to set out for a day’s ride. Captain Johnson said he would let Julian ride his own sturdy cob and Dick took a bonny chestnut horse with four white socks. The girls had the horses they usually rode.

Henry hung about, looking very mournful. The boys felt quite uncomfortable. “We really ought to tell her to come along too,” said Dick to Julian. “It seems jolly mean to leave her behind with those little kids.”

“Yes, I know. I agree with you,” said Julian. “Anne, come here! Can’t you suggest to George that we take Henry too? She’s longing to come, I know.”

“Yes. She is,” said Anne. “I feel awful about it. But George will be mad if we ask Henry. They really do get across one another. I simply daren’t ask George to let Henry come, Ju.”

“But this is silly!” said Julian. “To think we don’t dare to ask George to let somebody come! George will have to learn sense. I like Henry. She’s boastful, and I don’t believe half the tales she tells, but she’s a sport and good fun. Hey, Henry!”