“It’s marvellous,” said Julian, with great admiration. “But don’t you burn your mouth?”

“What, me? No, never!” laughed Alfredo. “At first maybe, yes — when I begin years and years ago. But now, no. It would be a shameful thing to burn my mouth — I would hang my head, and go away.”

“But — how is it you don’t burn your mouth?” asked Dick, puzzled.

Alfredo refused to give any explanation. That was part of the mystery of his act and he wasn’t going to give it away.

“I can fire-eat too,” announced Jo, casually and most unexpectedly. “Here, Uncle, let me have one of your torches.”

“You! You will do nothing of the sort!” roared Alfredo. “Do you want to burn to bits?”

“No. And I shan’t either,” said Jo. “I’ve watched you and I know just how it’s done. I’ve tried it.”

“Fibber!” said George at once.

“Now you listen to me,” began Alfredo again. “If you fire-eat I will whip you till you beg me for mercy. I will…”

“Now, Fredo,” said his wife, “you’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll deal with Jo if she starts any nonsense here. As for fire-eating — well, if there’s to be anyone else fire-eating here, I will do it, I, your wife.”

“You will not fire-eat,” said Alfredo obstinately, evidently afraid that his hot-tempered little wife might try to do it.

Anne suddenly gave a scream of fright. A long, thick body glided between her and Julian — one of the snake-man’s pythons! He had brought one with him, and the children hadn’t known. Jo caught hold of it and held on for dear life.

“Let him be,” said the snake-man. “He will come back to me. He wants a run.”

“Let me hold him for a bit,” begged Jo. “He feels so smooth and cold. I like snakes.”

Julian put out his hand gingerly and touched the great snake. It did feel unexpectedly smooth, and quite cool. How extraordinary! It looked so scaly and rough.

The snake slithered all the way up Jo and then began to pour itself down her back. “Now don’t you let him get his tail round you,” warned the snake-man. “I’ve told you that before.”

“I’ll wear him round my neck,” said Jo, and proceeded to pull the snake’s long body until in the end he hung round her neck like a fur. George watched in unwilling admiration. Anne had removed herself as far from Jo as possible. The boys gazed in astonishment, and felt a new respect for the little gypsy girl.

Someone struck up a soft melody on a guitar. It was Skippy, Bufflo’s wife. She hummed a sad little song that had a gay little chorus in which all the fair-folk joined. Practically all the camp had come along now, and there were quite a few the children hadn’t seen before.

It was exciting sitting there round the glowing fire, listening to the thrum of the guitar, and the sound of Skippy’s low, clear voice — sitting near a fire-eater too, and within arm’s length of a snake who also seemed to be enjoying the music! He swayed about in time to the chorus, and then suddenly poured himself all down the front of Jo, and glided like magic to his master, the snake-man.