They gathered up the remains of their picnic lunch and started forward again, with Silky in the lead. On and on they walked for several hours, talking very little, and stopping only now and then for a drink of water from a spring or two which they passed. About three o’clock they came to a widening of the path, and through the trees they could see the fields that surrounded the town of Coopersburg.
With a new burst of energy Mary Louise started to run forward.
“I see some tents, Daddy!” she cried. “And that caravan! Oh, I’m sure it’s the gypsies.”
“Don’t run, Mary Lou!” called her father. “With that heavy pack on your back! I’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I can’t wait, Daddy.” But she stopped and turned around, removing the pack from her shoulders.
“You keep the packs, Daddy,” she said when he had caught up to her, “and I’ll go ahead. I’d rather see the fortune teller by myself, anyhow. But stay where I can see you—within calling distance. And if I don’t come back in half an hour, come and look for me.”
“Mary Lou, are you expecting any trouble from these gypsies?”
“You never can tell!” she laughingly replied. Blowing him a kiss with her hand, she started to run towards the encampment. When she was about fifty yards away she saw the same children whom she had noticed the day of the picnic, and she looked eagerly for the fortune teller. A few yards farther on she recognized the woman, coming from one of the tents.
It seemed to Mary Louise that an expression of terror crossed the gypsy’s face as the woman caught sight of her. But only for a second; in a moment she was grinning and showing all the gaps in her front teeth.
“Fortune?” she asked immediately, as Mary Louise approached her.