“Here,” he exclaimed hastily. “Don’t begin that with me. Don’t put any high sign on me. I ain’t got time to have a chill.”
“The Gypsy Queen can do much.”
“I can see that, good enough,” answered Bud promptly, thinking of Lafe, “but I haven’t the price. If I had, I’d try you a whirl. I never had my fortune told. See here, Mrs. Zecatacas, what do I get for lettin’ you in here free gratis for nothin’? Right next the airship, too? I’d think you’d tell me a few good things just to show there’s no hard feelin’.”
The Gypsy tried to scowl again, but Bud’s exuberance was too much for her. She reached forward and took his hand.
“Look out now,” urged Bud. “Nothin’ bum. Don’t give me the willies. I got to do my flyin’ stunt in a few minutes.”
“Long life,” began the Gypsy.
“Bully for you,” exclaimed Bud. “Now, just tell me I’ll get an education and travel, and have money enough to buy an aeroplane, and we’ll call it square.”
“And much trouble—”
“Shut her off,” interrupted the boy, with assumed concern. “Come to think of it, I don’t need my fortune read. I’m goin’ to make my own.”
“A strange man will bring you much trouble—”