Dave Cowan went down the ridge to the road, disregarding his gypsy friends.

He trod the earth with a ruffling bravado.

The Wilbur twin lingered as far behind as he dared, loitering provocatively in the sight of the child stealers.

If they meant to do anything about it now was their chance.

But no violence was offered him, and presently, far beyond the camp where the fire still burned, he was forced to conclude that they could not mean to carry him off.