“Well, that depends. I’ve heard the tribes weren’t overly clean.”
“Sh-h-h!” warned Miss Elting. “You mustn’t say such things here. Remember we are guests.”
“I’m not likely to forget it. Oh, look at that pretty Gipsy girl! What a beauty!” cried Jane delightedly.
The Gipsy girl who had emerged from one of the wagons was indeed pretty. Her hands were demurely folded, her head lowered, and her eyes veiled by drooping lashes, as she moved slowly toward the group. She came to a halt directly in front of Crazy Jane.
“Cross my palm with silver and I’ll read your past and your future,” invited the pretty Gipsy girl.
Crazy Jane leaned forward regarding the Gipsy girl with keen, searching eyes.
“Indeed I will. Yes, darlin’, you can read my future and my past. How much silver shall I cross your palm with?”
Jane placed a shining fifty cent piece on the open palm. Something about the palm appeared to interest her very much. Just at this juncture, the Gipsy girl chanced to look up. The eyes of the two girls met. Jane uttered a whoop and embraced the girl in a bearlike hug.
“If it isn’t my own darlin’ Harriet,” she cried. “But who would have thought it. Hurrah for Harriet, the Gipsy!”