Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

Old man Kudinyonok, as he is known in our village, approached me in the yard one afternoon as I was saddling our mare to go for a ride. 

“Laura, can you call my cousin in Smelizh? Here’s the number,” he pleaded, extending a piece of paper toward me. “Some gypsies just robbed my house, and maybe she can do something to stop them on their way to town. They’ve only been gone about an hour. They were on foot. Three women and a man.” 

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I asked. “What did they steal?”