The young people piled into the cars again, and Max led the way, off the main highway to a dirt road extending behind Dark Cedars. Through the trees they could catch a glimpse of the gypsy encampment.
“Has everybody some money—in silver?” inquired Max, after the cars were parked beside the road. “The gypsies insist on gold and silver.”
Mary Louise nodded; she was prepared for herself as well as for Elsie.
“Do we all go in in a bunch?” asked Hope.
“Certainly not!” replied Max. “You don’t think we could tell our secrets in front of the whole bunch, do you?”
“Must be pretty bad,” observed Jane.
“All right, then, if that’s the way you feel about it, I’ll go in with you!” challenged Norman.
“Suits me,” returned the girl, with a wink at Mary Louise.
As the crowd came closer to the gypsy encampment, they saw the usual tents, the caravan, which was a motor truck, and a fire, over which a kettle was smoldering. Half a dozen children, dressed in ordinary clothing but without shoes and stockings, were playing under a tree, and there were several women about. But there did not appear to be any men at the camp at the time.
One of the women, who had been standing over the fire, came forward to meet the young people. She was past middle age, Mary Louise judged, from her dark, wrinkled skin, but her hair was jet black, and her movements were as agile and as graceful as a girl’s. She wore a long dress of a deep blue color, without any touch of the reds and yellows one usually associates with gypsies.