The Girl Aviators Motor Butterfly | Page 5

young adventurers of the air began circling their
machines about, dropping closer earthward with every sweep. Beneath
them was a green meadow, bordered on one side by a country road and
on the other by a small brook of clear water and a patch of dark woods.
It was an ideal place to halt for a roadside lunch, and as one after the
other the machines dropped to earth Miss Prescott was warmly
congratulated on her choice of a halting place.
The car was left in the road, and the melancholy Jake Rickets set to
work getting wood for a fire, for it was not to be thought of that Miss
Prescott could go without her cup of tea. In the meantime the girls
spread a cloth and set out their fare. There were dainty chicken
sandwiches with crisp lettuce leaves lurking between the thin white
"wrappers," cold meat and half a dozen other little picnic delicacies,
which all the girls, despite their aërial craze, had not forgotten how to
make.
The boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aëroplanes,
they beheld the inviting table.
"This beats camping out by ourselves," declared Roy, "girls, we're glad
we brought you."
"Thank you for the compliment," laughed Jess. "I suppose you mean

that you are glad we brought all this."
She waved her hand at the "spread" dramatically.
"Both," rejoined Jimsy, throwing himself on the grass. By this time
Jake's kettle was bubbling merrily, and soon the refreshing aroma of
Miss Prescott's own particular kind of tea was in the air. The boys
preferred to try the water from the brook, despite Jake's dire hints at
typhoid and other germs holding a convention in it. It was sweet and
cool, and the girls voted it as good as ice-cream soda.
"At any rate as we can't get any we might as well pretend it is,"
declared Bess.
So the meal passed merrily. After it had been concluded, amid gay
chatter and fun, Peggy proposed an excursion to the woods for wild
flowers which grew in great profusion on the opposite side of the
stream. Crossing it by a plank bridge, the young people plunged into
the cool woods, dark and green, and carpeted with flowering shrubs and
vines.
For some time they gathered the blossoms, and were just about to
return to the aëroplanes and resume their journey when Peggy uttered a
sudden sharp exclamation:
"Hark! What's that?" she cried.
They all listened. Again came the sound that had arrested her attention;
a sharp cry, as if some one was in pain or fright.
Then came definite words:
"Don't! Please; don't hit me again!"
"It's a child!" exclaimed Jimsy.
"A girl!" cried Peggy, "some one is ill-treating her."
"We'll soon find out!" cried Roy hotly. It infuriated the boy to think

that a child was being subjected to ill-treatment, and the nature of the
cries left no doubt that such was the case.
"Stand back here, girls, while we see what's up!" struck in Jimsy.
"Indeed we'll do no such thing!" rejoined the plucky Bess, bridling
indignantly.
"At any rate let us go in advance," advised Roy; "we don't know just
what we may run up against."
This appeared reasonable even to Bess, and with the boys slightly in
advance the little group pressed rapidly forward. After traveling about
two hundred yards they found themselves in a small clearing where a
most unusual sight presented itself; a sight that brought a quick flash of
indignation to the face of every one of them.
Cowering under the blows of a tall, swarthy woman was a small girl, so
fragile as to appear almost elfin. The woman wore the garb of a gipsy,
and the presence of some squalid tents and tethered horses showed our
young friends at once that it was a gipsy encampment upon which they
had happened.
The woman was so intent on belaboring the shrieking child that at first
she did not see the newcomers. It was not till Roy stepped up to her, in
fact, that she became aware of their presence.
"What are you doing to this child?" demanded Roy indignantly.
"That's none of your business," was the retort, as the woman for an
instant released her hold on the child.
Instantly the little creature darted to the sheltering arms of Peggy,
sobbing piteously.
"Oh! Save me from her, she will kill me," the child cried, in a broken
voice.
"There! there!" soothed Peggy tenderly, "don't cry. We won't let her

harm you any more."
But like a fury the woman flew at the girls. Before she could lay hands
on them, however, Roy and Jimsy had seized her arms and held them.
At this the crone set up a hideous shriek and, as if it had