"Too short," said the other, shaking her head decidedly.
"Oh, her real name is long enough. It"s Grace G. Carrington."
"Spell it out," commanded Margit Salgo, eagerly.
Bobby did so, but the girl shook her head. "Not enough letters," she declared.
"Why--there are sixteen letters to Miss Carrington"s name," said Bobby, wonderingly. "How many are there to the name you are hunting for?"
"Two more," said Margit, promptly.
"Eighteen?"
"Yes. Now, don"t you tell anybody what I say. That"s a good girl," urged the other.
"You"re not afraid of me, are you?" asked Bobby, in wonder.
"I"m afraid of everybody," muttered the girl.
"You"ve--you"ve run away from somebody?" ventured Bobby, fearing to startle the fugitive by telling her just how much she _did_ know.
"Never you mind about me. Thank you for what you"ve told me. I--I guess the worst of it"s over now, and I"ll go," said Margit, and she tugged at the k.n.o.b of the outer door.
The rain was still falling fast; but the thunder only muttered in the distance and the electric display had entirely pa.s.sed.
"Wait!" cried Bobby, earnestly. "Maybe I can help you some more."
"No. I don"t need anybody to help me. I can take care of myself,"
replied the Gypsy girl, sullenly.
She mastered the door-latch, pulled the door open, and ran out into the rain. In half a minute she was flying up the street, and not until she was out of sight did Bobby remember something that might be of great importance in explaining the mystery.
"Why, Miss Carrington always writes her name "Grace _Gee_ Carrington,""
exclaimed Bobby. "There"s the eighteen letters that the girl is looking for. I never thought of that!"
CHAPTER IX--THE GYPSIES AGAIN
When the rain stopped, Bobby went around to the other entrance and reported herself to Miss Carrington. That teacher always doubted Bobby"s excuses, and this time she shook her head over the girl"s tardiness.
"You told me you had plenty of time to do your errand within the limit of the recess, Miss Hargrew," said Gee Gee. "Do better next time, please."
"She always acts as though she thought I had an India rubber imagination," muttered Bobby, to her nearest seatmate, "and that I was always stretching it."
"Miss Hargrew, please refrain from communicating in lesson time!"
snapped the ever-watchful teacher.
"Dear me!" murmured Bobby. "She"s got me again. I _do_ have the worst luck."
And then she wondered what Miss Carrington knew about the strange Gypsy girl, or what Margit knew about Gee Gee.
"I"d like to get better acquainted with that girl," thought Bobby.
"There is a mystery about her--and Gee Gee is in it."
But she said nothing to any of the other juniors, judging it best to keep her own counsel. Meanwhile she kept a keen lookout for the girl to appear about the school building again. Several days pa.s.sed, however, and Bobby saw nothing of her.
Meanwhile the girls who were earnest in the work of putting Central High ahead in the inter-school athletic compet.i.tion worked hard on the field and under Mrs. Case"s eye in the gymnasium.
Bobby was really doing her best on the track. Never had she settled down to such thorough work in any branch of athletics as she had in this effort to make a record for the quarter-mile. Central High needed the points that a champion sprinter could win, just as the school needed the points putting the shot, and the broad jump, would add to its record.
Bobby, the year before, had acted as c.o.xswain of the eight-oared crew; and she had played all season on the big basketball team--the champion nine. But this running was different work.
Now she had no teammates to encourage her, or to keep her up to the mark. It was just what she could do for the school by herself.
"Just by your lonesome, Bobby," Laura Belding told her. "To win the quarter-mile will mean two whole points in June. Think of that! And you can do it."
"I don"t know," returned the other girl, in some despondency. "Gee Gee"ll likely get something on me before the June meet, and then where"ll we be?"
"But you don"t _have_ to do things to make Miss Carrington give you demerits."
"Bah! I don"t have to do anything at all to get demerits. She"s just expecting me to do something all the time, and she "jumps" me without giving me a chance. Any other girl in the school can cut up much worse than I do and never get a sour look; but I--oh, dear!"
"You see what it is to have a reputation for mischief," said Laura, half inclined to laugh. "Can"t you cut out the frolic for this one term? Cure yourself of practical joking and "joshing" poor Miss Carrington."
"Great Caesar!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bobby. "How could I ever do it?"
Nevertheless, with all her reckless talk, she was really trying her very best to keep out of difficulties in school, and on the other hand to make the best time possible on the cinder track.
Mrs. Case began to try her out now and then, and held the watch on her.
Bobby wanted to know how fast she made the quarter; but the instructor put up her watch with a smile and a head-shake.
"That I sha"n"t tell you, Miss Hargrew. Not yet. You do your best; that"s what you are to do. If you fall back, or I see you losing form, you"ll hear about it soon enough."
One morning before school-time Bobby heard Mrs. Ballister scolding at the back door. The old housekeeper did not often scold the maid, for she was a dear old lady and, as Bobby herself said, "as mild-tempered as a lamb." But she heard her say:
"Be off with you! We"ve nothing for you. Scalawags like you shouldn"t prosper--filling a girl"s silly head full of more silliness. Go on at once!"
Somehow Bobby had a premonition of what the trouble was about. She ran out upon the side porch and saw two Gypsy women coming around the path from the fear of the house. They were the two who had been at Queen Grace Varey"s camp that day on the ridge when the girls of Central High had had their adventure.
"Here is a little lady," whined the old woman. "She will buy of us,"
lifting up her baskets.
"No, no," said Bobby, shaking her head vigorously.
The other woman recognized her and touched the arm of her companion warningly.