CHAPTER XXI--MARGIT'S MYSTERY

To the amazement of the girls of Central High--particularly those seven who had been on the early Spring tramp to Fielding and had first seen the Gypsy girl when she ran away from Queen Grace Varey and the other Romany folk--Margit Salgo, as she called herself, appeared suddenly in the class rooms of the school. And, to complete their bewilderment, she appeared as the attendant of Miss Carrington!

Margit spoke little to any of the other girls. She came to Eve and Bobby and told them how she had been made to leave the farmhouse by the Vareys, who had come after her in the night; but how she had finally got away from them, and her connection with Miss Carrington, she would not explain, although Bobby was very curious.

"Well, doesn't that beat all!" ejaculated Bobby, to Eve Sitz. "And we thought we might be able to help Margit. She seems to have helped herself, all right."

"I am glad, if she is now in good hands; but I do not understand it," rejoined Eve.

"Say! there can't be any mistake about her wanting to get to Miss Carrington before. Now she's got to Gee Gee, all right. Guess there's nothing to be said by outside parties, eh?"

"Well, we can wonder--eh?"

"Oh, there's no law against it. Take it out in wondering. You can be sure that Gee Gee will be as mum as an oyster."

"But where is Queen Grace--and the others?" added Eve.

"That's so," Bobby returned. "If Miss Carrington hasn't settled with the Romanies and given them what they wanted, you can make sure that they will take a hand in the matter again."

Margit, however, seemed to have cut loose from the Gypsies altogether. When she appeared at Central High with the teacher she was dressed like any other girl coming from a well-to-do home. Her Gypsy garb had been discarded.

Margit sat by herself and she had special lessons. She did not recite with the other girls, nor did she have much to say to any of them, save to Eve and Bobby. Even Mother Wit was not very successful in scraping an acquaintance with the Austro-Hungarian.

Indeed, when one of the girls tried to talk with her, Margit answered in German; or, if the girl was taking German and could understand the spoken language pretty well, Margit used the outlandish dialect of the Romany folk, and that settled it.

Either she did not wish to make acquaintances, or she had been warned by Miss Carrington not to satisfy the curiosity of the girls of Central High about herself.

Of course nobody dared to question Gee Gee. If Mr. Sharp understood the reason for the new girl's presence he gave no sign--ignored her entirely, in fact. So the girls were vastly excited about Margit Salgo, her presence at Central High, where she came from, and--particularly--what relationship she bore to Gee Gee.

One day the teacher was particularly short-tempered and found reason for taking Bobby Hargrew to task over some trivial fault.

"I am amazed, Miss Hargrew, that so light-minded a girl as you ever won your way into the M. O. R. chapter. I do not see, Miss, but that you are just as mischievous as ever. Neither time nor place changes you."

She said it very spitefully, and some of the other girls laughed. But suddenly Margit popped up and said something vigorously in German--speaking so quickly that the other girls did not understand her; but Gee Gee evidently understood.

Her face flamed and she glared at the Gypsy girl in a way that would have quelled any other in the room. But Margit did not wither under her glance. She stared back, her head up and shoulders squared; and it was plain by her attitude that she defied Gee Gee.

Bobby was as amazed as the others. Margit had taken her part against the teacher. And for the moment it seemed as though there would be a serious breach between Gee Gee and her protege.

However, the incident effectually called Gee Gee's attention away from Bobby, and the latter heard nothing more of _her_ fault. But it seemed that the connection between the teacher and Margit Salgo was not founded upon _love_. There was some other reason than affection that made Gee Gee care for the half-wild Gypsy girl. Some of the others whispered that Gee Gee must have done some awful thing, and Margit knew it and so held the teacher in her power. But that, of course, was a silly explanation of the mystery.

It was plain, too, that the teacher would not let Margit out of her sight on the street. They came and went to school together, walking side by side. At the place where Miss Carrington had boarded so long, nobody ever saw Margit in the yard, but Miss Carrington was with her.

One might have thought the girl a prisoner.

Bobby was hurrying over to Laura's house with her books, one morning, wishing for a little help in one of the problems to be discussed that day, and she started through the grounds surrounding the Widow Boyce's house, from the back street.

Suddenly she saw a man crouching in the shrubbery. Weeks before she had seen a man spying about the house, and believed him to be one of the Gypsies. Now Bobby halted and spied on the Peeping Tom himself.

In a moment she saw that it was the man with the gold rings in his ears whom Eve had told her was Jim Varey, the husband of the Gypsy Queen. He was lurking there for no good purpose, that was sure.

Having carried Margit off from Farmer Sitz's house in the middle of the night, the Gypsies would doubtless attempt to steal the girl away from Gee Gee, as well. The school teacher had evidently not settled with the Romany folk. They had not yet got money through the girl, as Margit had said they hoped to do.

Bobby turned back toward the street, intending to look for a policeman, or for some neighbor; but as she did so she heard wheels grating against the curb, and there stood a covered wagon, with two sleek horses attached, and another Gypsy man driving them.

The man on the seat of the wagon whistled, and Jim Varey raised his hand as a signal. Then the latter darted around the corner of the house toward the front.

These maneuvers were only too plain to Bobby. There was not time to look for a policeman--and, in any case, an officer was hard to find in the Hill section of Centerport.

Bobby ran along the hedge, stooping so as not to be seen by the man on the wagon seat, and came around to the front of the house from the direction opposite that which Jim Varey had taken.

Just as she reached the front porch there was a wild scream from Miss Carrington, and Bobby saw the man leap from the far end of the porch with Margit in his arms.

Margit did not scream; she only beat the man about the head and--perhaps--left the marks of her nails in his dark face.

It was plain that she was being carried away from Gee Gee against her will. She had no desire to go back to the Gypsies.

Now, Miss Carrington could not run. She had been brought up in no athletic school, that was sure. She followed the kidnapper clumsily enough, and he would have gotten well away in the covered wagon with the girl, had it remained to Gee Gee to intervene.

But Bobby screamed, dropped her books, and went at the fellow as though she were playing football. She "tackled low," seizing with both arms about the knees, and Jim Varey, screeching and threatening, fell forward on the sward--and Margit escaped from his arms.

"Oh!" gasped the girl.

"Quick! get into the house!" cried Bobby, bounding to her feet.

Margit whisked past her, and past Miss Carrington, and fled indoors as she was advised. Jim Varey leaped up and confronted the little girl who had overturned him. His fists were clenched and he gabbled in the Romany tongue a string of what were evidently threats and vituperation.

"Now, it isn't me you want to carry off," said Bobby, bravely. "I wouldn't be any good to you. Get away, now, for I see Mr. Sharp coming down the street."

Which was true enough--although the school principal was still a long way off. Jim Varey seemed to see the wisdom of the girl's remarks, however, for he turned and fled.

The next minute they heard the heavy wagon being driven furiously away from the garden gate, and Bobby turned to find Gee Gee, sitting very faint and white, upon the porch steps.