All this time Frank was somewhat nervous, for he did not know but what at any minute there might be a sudden explosion. Lanky was apt to be impulsive; and if he really found that his suspicions had good grounds to rest upon, possibly the rash fellow might try to carry off the little girl. Frank had warned him, however, against anything so foolish, and gained his solemn promise to let it be taken in hand by those more capable of engineering the deal than two boys might seem to be. But there was no alarm, for which Frank felt happy. And having finally gained the signature of Queen Esther to the new contract, though she grumbled over the rate of renting the pasture for two weeks each spring, Frank was now ready to depart from the strange camp. He too looked around him curiously. Many unfamiliar scenes greeted his eyes to the right and to the left. Frank had watched the gypsy queen while they talked, and he was ready to admit that she certainly showed signs of nervousness more than a few times. Again and again would she half turn her head, and always to glance up at the elevated door that marked the rear of the big van, near which they sat on a rustic bench and talked. To tell the truth, she did seem bothered about something connected with that same wagon. Frank had sat down in such a position that he could himself steal a curious look that way from time to time; but though the minutes had crept along, he could not say that he had once seen that closed door move during the period of his conference with Queen Esther. He found Lanky waiting for him near the border of the camp, examining the gypsy way of making a fire, with a big iron pot hanging over the flames by means of a stout chain, that in turn was fastened to a heavy iron bar resting in the crotches of two stakes driven into the ground. “Makes me think of the old witch scene in ‘Macbeth’ we were reading about the other day, where they dance around the fire, and say, ‘Boil and bubble, toil and trouble,’” Frank remarked as, joined by his chum, they both strode out from among the wagons, children with dusky faces and staring black eyes, keen-faced men, and chattering women, and headed for the road. “Well, what did you find out?” asked Frank, when they were beyond sight of the camp. “I saw her again,” said Lanky, drawing a long breath as of repressed excitement. “Did she say anything; or did you have a chance to ask her what you said you meant to?” was what Frank fired at his chum. “Well, no, Frank,” replied Lanky, slowly, but with triumph in his voice; “you see, the old queen was so close I was afraid she’d hear me. But I made motions to let the little girl know I was her friend, when she poked her head out of that side window of the wagon; and what d’ye think, she just dropped this out to me!” and he held up a small object before the astonished eyes of his chum. CHAPTER X THE BUNCH FROM BELLPORT