“I don’t see that you’ve reached harbor anywhere,” drawled Jack.
“Not yet,” admitted Cora, “but that doesn’t say we won’t. I wonder where that girl can be,” she continued, as she looked searchingly around.
“Perhaps they’ve sent her over to Wilton to tell fortunes there,” suggested Paul. “These gypsies don’t wait for business to come to them. They hunt it up.”
“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Cora. “The only reason I cared to come over here was to see her.”
But although they loitered about the place for another hour or two, they saw no trace of the gypsy girl.
They were agreeably surprised, however, to run across Mr. Baxter, with whom their relations had grown cordial since he had exerted himself so strenuously in the search for Cora. But despite the pleasant footing on which they stood, there was still that baffling sense of reticence that enveloped him in everything concerning himself.
“Come over to get your fortune told?” asked Jack with a grin.
“Not exactly,” smiled Mr. Baxter, “though I’m always in the market for exact information.”
“I hope you don’t mean to imply that there’s anything phony about the dope they hand out here,” laughed Walter.
“We saw your friend, Mr. Morley, yesterday,” remarked Cora.