ortunes; which last, of
course, they don't really do, it being only make-believe.

The wagons, gay in the red, golden and yellow paint, seemed bright and
fresh in the rain, and the backs of some of them were open, showing
little bunks, like those in a boat, where the people slept. Some wagons
were like little houses--almost like the ark--only not as large, and in
them the gypsies could eat and sleep.

But most of the dark-skinned travelers lived in tents which were put up
among the trees, alongside the wagons. Some of the tent flaps were
folded back, and in one or two of the white, canvas houses oil stoves
were burning, for the day was chilly. There were chairs, tables and beds
in the tents, and all seemed clean and neat.

"We keep all our horses at the back of the camp," said Jaki Kezar as he
led the way. "You shall see them all, and be sure that your pony is not
with them."

As he walked on, followed by Bunny, Mr. Brown and Bunker Blue, gypsy
men, women and children came to the entrance of the tents, or to the
back doors of the wagons, and looked out. They stared at the visitors,
in the shiny, yellow oilskins, but said nothing.

A little way back in the woods were a number of horses tied to the
trees. They were under a sort of shed, made by cut, leafy branches of
trees put over a frame-work of poles, and this kept off some of the
rain. The horses seemed to like the cool and wet, for it kept the flies
from biting them.

Eagerly Bunny looked for a sight of Toby, but the pony was not there.
Neither was Splash among the dogs, some of which barked at the visitors
until Jaki Kezar told them to be quiet. Then the dogs sneaked off into
the woods.

Mr. Brown and Bunny looked carefully among the horses, thinking,
perhaps, that Toby might be hidden between two of the larger steeds. But
the pony was not there.

"I tell you true," said the gypsy man, earnestly, "we have not your
pony!"

"But where is he?" asked Bunny, almost ready to cry.

"That I do not know, little man," answered the gypsy. "If I did I would
tell you. But he is not here."

And it was evident that he was not. There was no sign of the trick pony
at the gypsy camp, and, after looking about a little more, Mr. Brown and
Bunny, followed by Bunker Blue, turned away.

"Perhaps there are more gypsies camped around here," said Mr. Brown to
Jaki Kezar.

"Perhaps," admitted the man with the gold rings in his ears. "But I do
not know of any. If I hear I wil