As was her custom, the fortune teller did not miss sight of anyone going to or from the post-office, and when she espied Jean she smiled sardonically.
“Now,” she muttered, “we will look for trade.”
Jean did not see her, as the fortune teller pulled her scarf over her head, and got into a position in the roadway where she might startle the girl as she passed along.
Two letters were in Jean’s hand—one of which she was reading with wrapt attention.
As she reached the white rock, the woman spoke, and as she expected, Jean gave a start.
“My dear,” began the imposter, “I have news for you. I have been waiting to see you for a whole week.”
“News for me?” repeated Jean.
“Yes. The other night, at the full of the moon, I took my crystal out, and asked the moon to tell who your enemies were. A flash came from the sky, and almost blinded me.” Here she stopped for effect. “But I can not give in to the planets. So I again asked.”
“What answer did you get?” inquired Jean.
“I saw the letters ‘T. T.,’” replied the woman.