Something about the gaudy and pretentious sign seemed to fascinate Colonel Witham. He walked past it once, reading it out of the corner of one eye; but he went only a little way beyond, then turned and stopped and surveyed it once more. He edged up to the canvas, sidled into the entrance and disappeared. "Cracky!" cried Young Joe. "Isn't that rich? The colonel's going to have his fortune told. Wow! wow! Suppose he's fallen in love?" "Not much," said Little Tim. "He wants to know where he's lost a dollar, probably. Hello, Allan, come over here." Little Tim, in high glee, bawled out a greeting to a comrade, Allan Harding, and conveyed the great news. The three stood awaiting the colonel's reappearance. If they could have seen within the tent, they might have beheld Colonel Witham, seated at a table upon which a light was thrown, its object being not so much to illuminate the occupant of the seat as to obscure his vision. It served to render more shadowy a vague figure that occupied a little booth across which a gauze curtain hung, and from which a voice now issued: "I see a dusty road, with fields running back from it," droned the voice, with mysterious monotony, while the person behind the veil scrutinized keenly the figure and dress of her visitor. "I see a great house a little way back from the road, with--with what seems to be a porch in front." "Yes, yes," said Colonel Witham, beginning to be impressed, ignoring the fact that his person indicated his occupation and that the description would answer almost every farmhouse along the road from Benton. "I see a figure sitting on the porch, and it resembles--yes, it is yourself. You are thinking. There is something that you want to know. You do not seem to be in love--" Colonel Witham snorted--and the hint to the sorceress was sufficient. "The stars are very clear on that point," continued the voice. "Your mind is bent on more serious things. You have a business matter that troubles you." "Wonderful!" ejaculated Colonel Witham, under his breath. "What else do you see?" he inquired, eagerly. "Let me read the stars," continued the voice. "I see what looks like another man." "Yes, yes," said Witham, forgetting in his eagerness that he had come in, half skeptical, and meant to reveal nothing on his own part. "Is he hiding anything?" "Wait--not so fast," replied the voice. Then, after a pause, "No, he is not hiding anything." Colonel Witham's jaw dropped. "But," continued the sorceress, "there is something strange about him. Wait, until I ask the spirits. They will tell something. Yes, he has something already hidden. It is secreted. He has hidden something away. Let me see, are they papers? They look like papers, but it is vague--" "And where are they hidden?" cried Colonel Witham, rising from his seat eagerly. "The spirits will not say," answered the voice. "They seem to be angry at something. Ah, they say they must have more money."