“Come inside with me, then, both of you,” continued the queen, rising from her stool, and starting up the three steps leading to the closed door. Frank heard Lanky draw a long breath. He laid a hand on the other’s arm as they started after the gypsy woman; and Lanky understood that this was meant for a warning to him. “All right, Frank,” he muttered, calming down again. When the door of the big van had been opened, the interior was exposed to view. And the first thing the two lads discovered was a girl of about eight or nine years of age, sitting curled up on a cushion. She had big dark eyes, and hair that was almost purplish black. Her skin was as dusky as that of any of the men. “This is my grandchild,” explained the old woman, with something like pride in her voice, for the girl was decidedly handsome, though very bold looking. “When I die she will be the queen after me. It is understood by the tribe. She comes of royal blood, does Mena.” Then she began to explain what the many appliances were for, that they saw in the wagon. The girl seemed to understand that she had better go away while the old queen was telling these two town boys about her new van, for she left the vehicle. Lanky followed her with his eyes. Frank could see a puzzled expression on the face of his chum, and that he was shaking his head, as though unable to make out how he had come to mistake a girl like that for a little thing begging for his assistance. Evidently Lanky’s ambition had dropped until it was now very near the zero mark. Frank was genuinely interested in all the wonderful arrangements which the new traveling van had for sleeping, cooking, and even writing; though a gypsy is not supposed to do much of this last. He asked numerous questions, just as the men had done when seeking information concerning the coming athletic contests. And the old woman did not seem at all averse about telling him whatever he wanted to know. Frank, however, was not so wrapped up in his desire to learn facts but what he could use his eyes to good advantage. And he noticed that several times while she was thus explaining things, the old gypsy would shoot a triumphant glance over in the direction of Lanky. Apparently she must have guessed something of the motive that influenced that Columbia High student to wander out to the camp on this Sunday afternoon. And no doubt she was chuckling to herself over her success in hoodwinking Lanky. His blank face gave her satisfaction, Frank felt sure. And he believed he knew the reason for it, too. After spending at least fifteen minutes in the big van talking with the owner, who seemed much more intelligent than Frank had ever believed any gypsy could be, the boys made a move as if to go. “Will you come again?” she asked, seeming to direct the query toward Lanky; and that worthy took it upon himself to reply.