“The Gipsy knows many things,” replied Harriet enigmatically. “Your hand reveals to her the grievous wrong you have done these trusting maidens.”
“Oh, that’s not so,” contradicted George.
“None can deceive the Oracle,” was the stern answer. “I see here a camp. The campfire burns brightly. About it sit the maidens. Look! Six youths approach. With them they bear a sack filled with the melons of the field. The maidens welcome them with smiles and pleasant words. They little know whence came these melons. They little know that before them lies the bitter fruit of lawless thievery.”
“Oh, that’s putting it altogether too strong,” expostulated George. “How can you tell anything about where those melons came from by the lines of my hand?”
“To the Prophet of the Oracle all things are plain,” replied the Star of the East. “In the early darkness of the night, ere the moon rose, the evildoers stole forth, and robbed the farmer of his melons.”
“This is becoming too personal,” gasped George, mopping his forehead.
“Word was brought to the farmer of this wicked deed and he hurried forth to catch the thieves,” continued Harriet. “Long did he search for them. Then seeing the camp of the maidens he approached, and finding them innocently eating his melons, he poured forth the vials of his wrath upon their defenseless heads. He branded them as thieves and demanded settlement. They crossed the farmer’s palm with much silver to pay for the stolen melons. They were too noble to betray the real thieves.”
Captain George shifted uneasily. “That’s really too bad. I’m sorry they got into such a mess,” he muttered. “I wonder what they think of us.”
“Their hearts are filled with shame and sorrow at the deceitfulness of those whom they supposed were their friends.”
“But—but the boys didn’t intend to make trouble for the girls,” protested the captain. “They thought it would be great fun to forage for melons, and at the same time to give the girls a treat.”