"Oh, good gracious! Where are they?" cried Crazy Jane, as she walked
into the Gipsy camp.
The girls glanced at each other wonderingly. Had not the Gipsy queen
just told them that Jane had arrived at the Meadow-Brook camp? The
mystery was too great for them to solve.
"But darlin's, what does it mean? The Gipsy girl who came for me, said
you were staying here for the night."
"We have been invited to be the guests of the tribe for this night,
Jane. Sybarina is the queen of these Gipsies, you know. She is the one
we rescued from the burning barn."
"Of course. Why are you here?"
The guardian explained how they had been attacked by tramps and how the
Gipsy woman and her companions had come to their rescue.
Jane was amazed, then her face flushed with anger. She wanted to know if
the Tramp Club had been seen. Miss Elting said they had not.
"But where is my darlin' Harriet?" questioned Jane, gazing at her
inquiringly.
"She has gone with the queen into one of the wagons. You will see her
soon."
"Won't it be jolly, Jane, to spend a night in a Gipsy camp?" cried
Hazel.
"Well, that depends. I've heard the tribes weren't overly clean."
"Sh-h-h!" warned Miss Elting. "You mustn't say such things here.
Remember we are guests."
"I'm not likely to forget it. Oh, look at that pretty Gipsy girl! What a
beauty!" cried Jane delightedly.
The Gipsy girl who had emerged from one of the wagons was indeed pretty.
Her hands were demurely folded, her head lowered, and her eyes veiled by
drooping lashes, as she moved slowly toward the group. She came to a
halt directly in front of Crazy Jane.
"Cross my palm with silver and I'll read your past and your future,"
invited the pretty Gipsy girl.
Crazy Jane leaned forward regarding the Gipsy girl with keen, searching
eyes.
"Indeed I will. Yes, darlin', you can read my future and my past. How
much silver shall I cross your palm with?"
"What you will, pretty lady."
Jane placed a shining fifty cent piece on the open palm. Something about
the palm appeared to interest her very much. Just at this juncture, the
Gipsy girl chanced to look up. The eyes of the two girls met. Jane
uttered a whoop and embraced the girl in a bearlike hug.
"If it isn't my own darlin' Harriet," she cried. "But who would have
thought it. Hurrah for Harriet, the Gipsy!"
"Ah, daughter, she is the true Romany," interrupted Sybarina, suddenly
appearing behind Harriet. "None but a true daughter of Romany could have
said those words so well." The old woman's eyes gleamed with pride. Then
she exclaimed: "I see strangers coming to the camp of the Gipsy! Would
you have them see you, or would you watch them from the wagons?"
"From the wagons," chorused the girls.
"The Romany princess, she of the brown eyes, may wander at will. The
strangers will not think her a Gorgio. She is a true Romany."
"Thank you, Sybarina, I will go with my friends. Perhaps I may come out
later," answered Harriet. She was dressed in Gipsy costume, and her
face, already dark, had been slightly stained with herbs which the old
woman had rubbed on both her face and hands.
The young men and women from nearby farms began to stroll into the camp
to have their fortunes told. With them came several keen-eyed farmers,
leading horses which they had brought in for a chance at a trade. The
Gipsy men quickly gathered about the animals, then began the incessant
talk of the horse trader, the Gipsies being particularly shrewd in that
line of business. In the meantime Sybarina and several other women of
the tribe were reading the futures of the giggling country girls. It was
all very interesting to the girls in the nearby wagon. They were peering
out from the darkened interior, unseen. Never before had they
experienced anything so romantic or so picturesque.
Harriet finally wandered out into the field. She attracted attention
only because of her slender figure and pretty face. She had no fear of
being recognized, for no one there ever had seen her before.
"Isn't she a typical Gipsy, though?" chuckled Jane, gazing admiringly at
Harriet.
"Unless one knew she were not, one couldn't tell the difference,"
answered Miss Elting. "Just look at that girl for whom the queen is
telling a fortune. See how eagerly she drinks in every word. Every word
is true to her. She believes it all."
"So does Sybarina," replied Hazel.
"Yes, I think she does. Do you know, Jane, she told us when you arrived
at the tent. I think it must have been at the moment when you reached
there. I can't imagine how she knew."
"Maybe she heard the car," suggested Margery.
"No she didn't," declared Jane. "I drove into the camp without making a
sound. I wanted to give you a surprise. I wonder how she knew I was
near."
Neither Jane nor any of her companions had thought of the big headlights
on the car, the glint of which had flashed on the foliage of a tree near
the gipsy camp just as Jane was swinging into the byway that led down to
the Meadow-Brook camp. Perhaps the old gipsy's keen eyes had caught this
flash and read it aright. But this the girls were never to know. Their
attention, just now, was attracted by the sound of loud talking. Voices
were heard approaching the camp.
"I guess we are going to have quite a party this evening," said Harriet,
stepping into the wagon. "Oh, this is simply great! What a pity we
aren't all made up to look like Gipsies."
"Look, girls!" exclaimed the guardian.
They did look, with widening eyes.
"My grathiouth, if it ithn't thothe Tramp boyth," breathed Tommy.
"It certainly is the Tramp Club. There's Captain Baker and Sammy and
Dill and Davy. Where could they have come from?" wondered Hazel.
"Oh, let's go out and call to them," suggested Margery enthusiastically.
"Wait," warned Harriet. "I have a plan that I think will work to
perfection. If it does, we'll have some fun with the Tramp Club this
evening."
"What is it, darlin'?"
Harriet whispered in Jane's ear. Crazy Jane uttered a loud laugh.
"Sh-h-h!" warned the guardian. "You will betray our hiding place to
those boys."
"I must get word to Sybarina. I wish she would come over here," mused
Harriet.
As though in answer to her wish, Sybarina rose and hobbled toward the
wagon. She halted at the step without looking up.
"The friends of the pretty ladies are here. What do the pretty ladies
wish to do?"
"Oh, Sybarina! I want to read the future for that boy yonder on the
right, the one with the reddish hair. May I? Please let me."
"It shall be as the Romany girl wishes, but she must be grave, she must
not make her real self known to the laughing boy."
"No, no, no! I promise not to betray my identity. But what shall I say?
I don't know what to say," begged Harriet.
"The words will come unbidden to the lips of the Romany girl. Fear not.
Come." There was a suspicion of a twinkle in the piercing black eyes as
Sybarina stretched forth her hand to Harriet Burrell. Harriet's heart
thumped violently as she stepped down from the wagon. "If I get a chance
to read George Baker's palm I will make him stand as near to the wagon
as possible, so you girls can hear what I say to him, but don't you dare
make a sound."
"Isn't she the clever darlin'?" chuckled Crazy Jane.
"Harriet is a very resourceful girl," answered Hazel admiringly.
"Yes; Harriet has added a good many honor beads to her string during
this hike," replied the guardian. "I think, too, that she is going to
pay those boys the debt that we owe them."
"Listen!" commanded Jane. Sybarina was speaking.
"Behold before you the Star of the East. Behold one who has come out of
the East to read the future true. Cross her palm with silver and the
Oracle will speak, revealing the past and foretelling the future."
The Gipsy queen had not led Harriet into the bright light. Instead the
girl, in the fainter light at the outer edge of the circle, stood with
downcast eyes, hands folded before her.
[Illustration: "Cross My Hand With Silver."]
"Who shall be the first to hear the future and the past from the Star of
the East?"
"Say, fellows, now is the time to find out a few things," laughed
Captain George Baker. "Here's where I consult the Star of the East.
Here, young woman, read my palm. I don't know anything about this
fortune-telling business, and I don't believe in it, but I'm willing to
take a chance on it. How much does it cost to consult the stars?"
"For a silver quarter I will reveal the past only. Cross my hand with a
silver dollar and both the past and future shall be as an open book,"
answered Harriet, speaking in a low tone, disguising her voice as much
as possible.
George uttered a low whistle.
"A dollar! Whew! Isn't that pretty high?"
"The stars are higher," was the curt reply of the Star of the East.
There was an audible giggle from the interior of the nearby wagon.
Harriet heard it, but Captain Baker was too much interested in the
prospect of having his fortune told to give heed to the sound.
"Isn't she the clever darlin'?" reiterated Crazy Jane, restraining
herself from shouting only by a great effort of will.
"All right. Here's your money. But, mind you, I'll expect a lot of
information for a dollar."
"The past and future are not measured by silver," retorted Harriet.
"That which is past the Oracle has revealed to me. That which is to be,
I alone can tell. I am but the mouthpiece of the Oracle, but the Oracle
cannot lie."
"I'm glad to be assured of hearing the truth, at any rate," replied
George flippantly.
"Be at rest. You shall hear the truth," promised the Star of the East
dryly. Then taking George's hand in hers she gravely scrutinized the
lines of his palm.
"The lines of your hand tell me many things," she began.
"Then be sure that you tell me all about them. I want my money's worth,"
urged the captain.
"The past and future shall be fully revealed to you," promised the
supposed Gipsy. Captain George Baker of the Tramp Club then listened to
a fortune that, though it did not wholly please, amazed him beyond
measure.