"You don't have to start till four o'clock," he urged. "You've got plenty of time." And they needed no great amount of persuasion. "Funny old place Coombs keeps," he remarked, as they walked from the camps over to the landing. "All sorts of queer people drop in there over night. Last night, there were some show people in some of the rooms next to mine--they're going to leave to-morrow, for the fair up at Newbury--and they kept me awake half the night, with their racket. "They've got a fortune-teller among them, too," he continued. "Say, she's a shrewd one. Of course, she's one of the fakers, but she's downright smart--told me a lot of things about myself that were true. Suppose she looked me over sharp. Say, I tell you what I'll do; I'll get her to tell your fortunes. How'd you like to have your fortunes told? I'll pay." As matter of fact, they were not so enthusiastic over it as was Mr. Bangs; but they didn't like to say so, since he seemed to take it for granted that they did. So, after they had had the soda and peanuts, Mr. Bangs ushered them, one by one, into a room, where the fortune-teller awaited them. Perhaps she flattered most of them over-much; perhaps she even hinted at certain bright-eyed, yellow-haired young misses, whom some of them might fancy, but were not of an age to admit it. At all events, as they came forth, one by one, they made a great mystery of what she had said to them. Little Tim didn't take kindly to the idea at all, in fact; and, when it came his turn, Henry Burns and Harvey had to take him and shove him into the room. He was inclined to be a bit abashed when he found himself in the presence of a tall, dark, thin-faced woman, whose keen, black eyes seemed to pierce him through and through. In fact, those shrewd, quick eyes were about all anyone might need, to discover a good deal about Little Tim, whose small but wiry figure, tanned face, bare feet and dress indicated much of his condition in life. "Come over here and sit down," said the woman, as Tim stood, eying her somewhat doubtfully. The boy complied. "So you want your fortune told, do you?" she asked. "I dunno as I care much about it," answered Tim, bluntly. The woman smiled a little. "No?" she said. "Let's see your hand." Tim extended a grimy fist across the table, the lines of which were so obscured with the soil of Coombs's landing that it might have puzzled more than a wizard to read them. But the woman, her keen eyes twinkling, remarked quickly, "That's a fisherman's hand. You're the best fisherman on the pond." Tim began to take more interest. "I've caught the biggest bass of the year," he said. "That's it; what did I tell you?" exclaimed the woman. "I think you're going to have a lot of money left to you some day," she added, noting at a glance Tim's poor attire. Little Tim grinned.