“Sure I can, Miss Evie,” replied the farmer. “What are you girls doin’ with these ‘Gyptians? Gettin’ your fortunes told?”
“Oh, we just stopped here for a minute,” said Eve, carelessly.
The Gypsies had hesitated to approach closer. The men began to slip away, one after the other.
“Pile in, girls,” said the farmer, hospitably. “I’m going five or six miles on this road. Bound for Fielding?”
“Yes, we are,” replied Eve, as her friends gratefully clambered into the end of the wagon.
“Oh, dear me!” whispered Jess. “What luck this is! I believe those folks would have tried to keep us.”
“I don’t know about that,” returned her chum. “But the woman certainly managed to frighten Bobby most thoroughly.”
Bobby had hushed her sobs. But even when the wagon had started again and the Gypsy camp was out of sight, she was not willing to talk about what the Varey woman had told her.
[CHAPTER VII—THE YELLOW KERCHIEF AGAIN]
School opened the next Monday and the girls of Central High took up their tasks “for the last heat” of the year, as Jess Morse expressed it.