AMONG THE NOMADS OF THE ROAD
“There’s the gypsy camp, all right, Lanky,” remarked Frank, on the
following morning, about nine, as the two chums sauntered along the
road beyond the confines of the town of Columbia.
They had managed to elude all their friends, in some way or other;
for since Lanky was determined to settle the question that had been
bothering him ever since first passing the gypsy caravan, it was of
the utmost importance that they enter the camp of the nomads without a
crowd of chums to keep them company.
“That’s right, Frank,” remarked the other, with a little laugh; “and
just as you said, I was off my base when I thought they might’ve pulled
up stakes, and cleared out durin’ the night. Of course nobody knows
what’s in my mind, and so they’ve not gone and got scar’t. Well, we’ll
soon see now whether I’ve been a loon, or if that kid _did_ mean to
attract my attention.”
[Illustration: FRANK AND LANKY VISIT THE GYPSY CAMP.
_Boys of Columbia High in track Athletics._ _Page 81._]
“Are you still thinking the same way?” asked Frank, in a low tone;
for they were by this time approaching the outskirts of the gypsy
encampment, where several gay tents had been erected among the
expensive wagons with the commodious and painted tops, that were made
to serve for both sleeping and eating places.
“Can’t just get to see it any other way, I tell you,” Lanky persisted.
“I’ve been turning and twisting it around every which direction, but
all the time I just seem to see that little girl holdin’ out her baby
hands to me. Never did have such a thing grip me, I give you my word,
Frank.”
“All right, then,” replied his chum, resolutely. “We’ll go through the
performance just like we planned it. I only wanted to make sure you
hadn’t backed water, because it wouldn’t be worth while to take the
chances unless you felt dead sure there might be something in it.”
“I’m going to do just as you said, Frank, and look like any fellow
might when he had a chance to walk around in a gypsy camp. There’s lots
of queer things to see; and I want to talk with one or two of those
boys, if so be they’ll answer civil questions. But you can bet I don’t
touch on _that_ subject once. But, Frank, I’ll use my eyes to beat the
band; and if she’s around I’m bound to see her.”
“Well, here we are, close up now; so haul off, and fight shy of the
matter. Let’s jabber away like a couple of boys would, that had been
sent here on an errand, and wanted to look around, just to see how
these ramblers live when they are in camp.”
Lanky, to use his own expression, “buttoned up his lips” right then and
there. He could not tell when some member of the gypsy tribe might be
lying behind a bush, and overhear what they were saying; and it was the
part of discretion to keep a close watch over everything they did from
now on.
Suspicious looks greeted their arrival at the camp. Both men and women,
even the younger element among the nomads, seemed to question the
wisdom of allowing a couple of boys to enter the enclosure where the
belongings of the tribe were scattered about.
But Frank stepped up to the first man he met, and there was something
so manly about his demeanor that unconsciously, before he had spoken a
word, the gypsy smiled.
“I want to see the queen, Esther you call her, I think,” was what Frank
said.
“She is not telling fortunes any more,” said the man. “It has brought
us more trouble than dollars, and so she has stopped. But they were
always true; and sometimes the house-dwellers liked them not on that
account.”
“But I don’t want to see her for that,” Frank insisted.
“What would you, then, boy?” demanded the man, a little suspiciously
now.
“I have been sent here to see her by the gentleman who owns this land,”
Frank continued, boldly. “The old agreement has run out, and it was
understood that the next time you came to stay here, your leader would
make a new one. I have brought it for the queen to sign, after we have
talked the matter over.”
At that the gypsy’s eyes showed more wonder than ever. Undoubtedly he
marveled to see a mere boy sent on such an important errand. But, at
any rate, Frank’s explanation seemed to have cleared away the doubts
that were beginning to harass his mind.
“If that is so, come with me. I will show you where the queen can be
found,” he said, with more respect than he had used before.
Frank turned to his companion, and remarked, in a careless way:
“Just make yourself at home, Lanky, till I get through. I guess there
won’t be any objection to his hanging around the camp a while; will
there? He wants to understand how gypsies live when on the road, you
see.”
“It’s all right; let him stay as long as he wants. You come this way
with me,” and as he said this the swarthy-faced, squatty man started
off.
Frank was about to follow when he heard Lanky draw his breath in
a curious way, which had been arranged as a signal between them.
And coming when it did, this told Frank that his chum meant to say
something in a low tone as they stood for a few seconds, before he
himself followed the gypsy.
“I saw something,” muttered Lanky, when their heads were close together.
“What was it?” asked Frank, quickly.
“Over at the big wagon, where you’re going now,” the other went on.
“Where the queen lives, you mean?” asked Frank.
“Well, she must ’a’ just discovered that there were strangers in the
camp, because I saw her chase _something_ up the steps into the wagon.
She hid it with her dress all the while, so I couldn’t make sure; but,
Frank, I just know, as certain as I’m here, that it must have been that
kid. She don’t want anybody outside to set eyes on that little girl.
Now, why should she act that way if the child belonged to her people?
I tell you, it looks more and more to me like there must be fire where
you find smoke.”
There was no opportunity to say any more. The gypsy man had come to a
halt, and was waiting for Frank to overtake him. Perhaps he supposed
that the messenger was warning his companion to be careful how he
touched anything, and got himself in a mess with the campers.
Frank was soon face to face with a middle-aged woman, whose face,
though marked by many wrinkles, had a keen look upon it. Her black
eyes seemed to bore him through. He had seen Queen Esther on other
occasions, for these gypsies came along about the same time every year,
camping in the pasture at Budd’s Corners, and trading horses with the
farmers for miles around.
If a farmer had a horse that did not please him he would hold it until
these nomads arrived, when he tried to drive a shrewd bargain with
them. But, though at the time he might flatter himself on having gotten
the best part of the trade, as time rolled on he would awaken to the
fact that after all he was mistaken. But by then the gypsies were sure
to be far on their way; and a whole year would elapse before they again
made their appearance on the scene.
Frank quickly introduced the subject that had brought him there. He
believed he saw a sudden look of relief flash over the strongly marked
features of the queen, as though certain fears had been set at rest.
She immediately began to discuss the proposition suggested by Mr. Budd,
and with a business-like manner that proved her right to be at the head
of the tribe. The owner of the field had entered into the spirit of
Frank’s design; and in order to give Lanky more time in which to do his
prowling, the negotiations were prolonged by various little hitches
that had to be smoothed away.
So slow was Frank in reaching an agreement, and getting it properly
signed, that half an hour must have passed since he and Lanky first
arrived at the borders of the gypsy encampment.
And all of this time the tall lad was having a chance to roam around
the camp, observing what went on, and doubtless picking up points that
might prove of more or less value to him later on.
Frank saw him from time to time, but seemed to pay not the slightest
attention to what he was doing. And on Lanky’s part it can be said with
truth that he surely gave his chum no trouble whatever. He sauntered
here, and stopped there to watch some boys playing a game with a
pocket-knife very similar to mumble-the-peg, with which of course Lanky
was familiar.
All this time Frank was somewhat nervous, for he did not know but
what at any minute there might be a sudden explosion. Lanky was apt
to be impulsive; and if he really found that his suspicions had good
grounds to rest upon, possibly the rash fellow might try to carry off
the little girl. Frank had warned him, however, against anything so
foolish, and gained his solemn promise to let it be taken in hand by
those more capable of engineering the deal than two boys might seem to
be.
But there was no alarm, for which Frank felt happy. And having finally
gained the signature of Queen Esther to the new contract, though she
grumbled over the rate of renting the pasture for two weeks each
spring, Frank was now ready to depart from the strange camp.
He too looked around him curiously. Many unfamiliar scenes greeted his
eyes to the right and to the left. Frank had watched the gypsy queen
while they talked, and he was ready to admit that she certainly showed
signs of nervousness more than a few times. Again and again would she
half turn her head, and always to glance up at the elevated door that
marked the rear of the big van, near which they sat on a rustic bench
and talked.
To tell the truth, she did seem bothered about something connected with
that same wagon. Frank had sat down in such a position that he could
himself steal a curious look that way from time to time; but though the
minutes had crept along, he could not say that he had once seen that
closed door move during the period of his conference with Queen Esther.
He found Lanky waiting for him near the border of the camp, examining
the gypsy way of making a fire, with a big iron pot hanging over the
flames by means of a stout chain, that in turn was fastened to a heavy
iron bar resting in the crotches of two stakes driven into the ground.
“Makes me think of the old witch scene in ‘Macbeth’ we were reading
about the other day, where they dance around the fire, and say, ‘Boil
and bubble, toil and trouble,’” Frank remarked as, joined by his chum,
they both strode out from among the wagons, children with dusky faces
and staring black eyes, keen-faced men, and chattering women, and
headed for the road.
“Well, what did you find out?” asked Frank, when they were beyond sight
of the camp.
“I saw her again,” said Lanky, drawing a long breath as of repressed
excitement.
“Did she say anything; or did you have a chance to ask her what you
said you meant to?” was what Frank fired at his chum.
“Well, no, Frank,” replied Lanky, slowly, but with triumph in his
voice; “you see, the old queen was so close I was afraid she’d hear me.
But I made motions to let the little girl know I was her friend, when
she poked her head out of that side window of the wagon; and what d’ye
think, she just dropped this out to me!” and he held up a small object
before the astonished eyes of his chum.