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Meanwhile, Tom could hear him stirring around, tumbling over the chairs in the dark, and growling at his boots, and otherwise showing his anger. But the boy was desperate, and he stood still until the man appeared tin star pinned to his vest. "Wal, by gravey!" exclaimed the blacksmith-constable. "Ain't you a reckless youngster ter face up the majesty of the law in this here way?"
I thought that would touch you, and it will cost you little pains, and slouching it over his face, rose, and, leaning upon Annora's shoulder, stepped forward, just as the big burly blacksmith-constable and small shriveled cobbler advanced, dragging along, by a cord round the wrists, a slight figure with a red woolen sailor's shirt, ragged black hosen, bare head, and almost bare feet.
She tried to cry out so that the constable would hear her, but the crowd drowned her cries. She saw the constable search each of the three vans. Of course, he found no girls answering to the descriptions of Ruth and Helen and it was the girls that he was searching for. He was Sim Peck, the blacksmith-constable from Severn Corners. It was a pity Tom Cameron had not been with him!
Those Gypsies ought to be all shut up in jail," said Tom, vigorously. "Them 'Gyptians?" drawled Peck, in surprise. "What they got ter do with it?" "Why, they had everything to do with it. Don't you know that they carried off both my sister here and Ruth Fielding?" "Look here," said the blacksmith-constable, slowly, "let me understand this. Your sister has been with the 'Gyptians?" "Yes.
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