Boys are seldom as eager to have their fortunes told as girls, for some reason, and Fred and Artie declared that nothing would induce them to go in and see "Madame Zelda Orlando," who would, so her announcement said, "read your past, present and future for fifty cents."
"Huh, I know my past and the present is what is happening to me right now," Artie sniffed. "And I can get along without the future till it happens."
But Polly and Margy and Jess were filled with curiosity and they held out their yellow, blue and white passes to the strange turbaned man who stood on guard at the tent door.
"Enter!" he said, and held back the mysterious curtain.
Polly gave one startled backward glance at the boys and went in, followed by Jess and Margy. The turbaned guard dropped the curtain back into place.
"Say, I didn't think they could get in on their passes," said Fred. "I wonder if we ought to have gone in with them."
"They're all right," Ward declared carelessly. "Come on and let's see the snakes while we're waiting."
"No, we said we'd keep together and we'll stay right here," said Fred firmly. "The girls will want to see the snakes, too. I don't suppose it takes very long to tell your past and present and future."
Madame Orlando evidently agreed with Fred, for in less than fifteen minutes Polly and Jess and Margy came out. Madame had read their palms, they said, and she said that good fortune awaited them all through life.
"I could have said that," complained Ward. "Hurry up and let's see the snakes. They're over here."