MORE TROUBLES
As soon as she drew near, Florence burst out excitedly, "Our car's
stolen!"
Jo Ann's and Peggy's eyes stretched to their widest, and their lower jaws
dropped.
Jo Ann was the first to recover from the shock. "Our car's stolen! Why,
who could've----Oh, it must've been the smugglers!"
"I'm sure it was," Florence replied. "The newsboy described one of them
exactly--the taller one."
Peggy gasped audibly. "That settles it, then."
"He hit the boy--knocked him down--then they drove off in our car."
"I don't understand why the smuggler should've hit the boy," put in Jo
Ann bewilderedly. "What'd the boy have to do with the affair?"
Florence and Peggy exchanged glances, then Florence answered, "I hired
the boy to watch our car while we went to the market. The lock on the car
wouldn't work. I'm to blame."
"Oh--I'm beginning to see now." The bewildered expression on Jo Ann's
face slipped away, and a look of determination took its place. "We've got
to get our car back right away." She drew her brows together into a
little frowning line of concentration.
"Hadn't we better report it to the police?" Peggy asked.
Jo Ann shook her head. "Not yet. Maybe later. I believe we'd better hunt
up the mystery man and tell----" She halted abruptly. "But maybe he's
left the city already. I hope not. I want to tell him our car's license
number, so he can follow it--especially since the smugglers might've
discarded their car entirely. But maybe one of them might drive ours and
the other one their car. Come on. We'll plan what to do as we walk." She
caught Florence with one hand and Peggy with the other.
"But where're we going?" queried Peggy.
"Anywhere so we can get away from this crowd," Florence whispered, eying
the curious onlookers, who were waiting to see what the _Americanas_ were
going to do.
No sooner had the girls started off down the street than Florence
remembered about the two little boys carrying their packages. She glanced
around and saw them following close behind, the packages piled up in
their arms almost as high as their chins. "Gracious!" she exclaimed. "We
can't have them following us everywhere. We'd better have them take the
packages back to the market and leave them there for a while. Walk
slowly, and I'll catch up with you in a shake."
She wheeled about, gave a quick order in Spanish to the boys, and then
accompanied them to the market. After leaving the packages at the same
booth where they had waited before and paying the boys a few _centavos_,
she flew back to the girls.
"I've decided to go to the telephone exchange first," Jo Ann announced to
her quickly. "Where is it?"
"One block down, then turn to the right and go about a block and a half."
"Let's step on it." Jo Ann strode off in what Peggy always called her
"long-legged gallop," which meant that both she and Florence had to take
two or three steps to Jo Ann's one.
Having caught up with Jo Ann by running, Florence asked, "Why--are
you--going to the exchange?"
"'Cause I feel sure that he was going to do some long-distance
phoning--and he started off in this direction." With that she galloped
off faster than ever.
"People'll think we're crazy--running--along like this," puffed Peggy.
Florence nodded assent "They're saying, 'Ah, those--queer _Americanas_!'"
The two girls reached the exchange at last in time for Florence to help
Jo Ann question one of the operators. The man they had described, the
operator replied, had left only a few minutes before.
"Where did he go?" Jo Ann asked quickly.
The operator shook her head. "That I do not know."
"Now where?" Peggy asked Jo Ann curiously.
"To the telegraph office. He'd probably have to telegraph, too, to some
of the inspectors. Where's the telegraph office, Florence?"
"Go back to the corner where we just turned. It's a block past the
market."
"Oh, gosh!" Jo Ann exploded. "Just my luck to go to the wrong place
first. Come on."
Off she rushed out of the building and soon was several yards ahead of
the other two. By the time she had reached the telegraph office, she was
panting, her cheeks a brilliant scarlet with beads of perspiration
running down them.
Just as she dashed in, she bumped into a man hurrying out.
"Oh--I--beg your----" she began, then gasped, "Oh, it's _you_! I've--been
hunting--for you!"
"What's happened?" the mystery man asked, guiding her outside, away from
the curious stare of the people in the office.
As quickly as she could manage in her breathless state, she recounted
what had happened.
"Glad you found me in time," he replied. "I was just ready to leave in
pursuit. What's your car's number?" He jerked out a notebook from his
pocket and jotted down the number she gave him. "I'll try to get your car
back to you," he added then. "About your getting home this afternoon----"
He broke off in the middle of his sentence and turned to the tall, erect
Mexican man standing back of him, whom Jo Ann now noticed for the first
time. "Gonzales, I want you to drive this girl and her friends to their
home out beyond San Geronimo. She'll tell you how to get there, if you
don't know." He turned again to Jo Ann, saying, "This is Juan Gonzales,
my right-hand man; Gonzales, this is my right-hand girl, Miss Jo Ann
Cutrer. Take good care of her." He addressed Jo Ann again: "He's a
careful driver. I'll write to you as soon as I can." With an "Adios" he
hurried on to the curb, sprang into a tan roadster, and drove off
rapidly.
By that time Peggy and Florence had come puffing up, and after
introducing Mr. Gonzales to them, Jo Ann explained that he was to drive
them home. Florence, with her knowledge of Mexicans and their language,
talked for a few minutes in Spanish with the stranger before agreeing to
this plan. Having decided that he was a gentleman and trustworthy, she
told Jo Ann that she, for one, thought they ought to be starting back
home shortly. "As soon as we get our packages at the market, we'll be
ready, won't we?"
"I have a few things I'd like to get," spoke up Peggy.
"How long will it take you to finish your shopping?" Mr. Gonzales asked
in excellent English, surprising them all so that there was a moment's
silence before Peggy answered, "I'll be ready in about fifteen or twenty
minutes. You girls will be too, won't you?"
Both nodded assent.
"Very well, I'll have Mr. Andrews's other car here waiting by that time
for you."
"Mr. Andrews's car?" Jo Ann repeated puzzledly, then smiled. "You mean
the mystery man's car. We've called him the mystery man so long that I'd
forgotten for the moment that he'd told me his name was Andrews. I'll try
to remember that hereafter."
The girls hurried off to finish their shopping and in about a quarter of
an hour were back at the corner. Almost at the same minute Mr. Gonzales
drove up in a sedan, and the girls climbed into the back seat, piling
their packages on the floor.
Jo Ann noted with satisfaction that Mr. Gonzales was a careful driver,
weaving in and out the traffic with ease and taking no unnecessary risks.
Having arrived at this conclusion she relaxed somewhat and began talking
over their exciting experiences with the girls. "One thing I'm thankful
for is that we three paid for Jitters ourselves," she remarked. "Wouldn't
it be terrible if, say, Miss Prudence, had been a part owner? Wouldn't
you hate to tell her about the car's having been stolen?"
Both nodded emphatically, and Florence added, "I've been wondering if
we'd better tell her. I rather think not. She'd get all stirred up over
it, and besides, the mystery man'll probably get Jitters back to us in a
few days. How about keeping quiet about it for a while?"
"I'm in favor of keeping mum till we hear from Mr. Andrews," Peggy put
in. "If he writes he couldn't find the car, why, of course, we'll have to
tell Miss Prudence and Mr. Eldridge then."
"When José meets us at Jitters' House this afternoon," Jo Ann broke in,
"he'll know something's wrong at once. He'll want to know what's become
of Jitters."
"We'll tell him the truth and ask him to say nothing about it for a few
days--till we tell him he may," Florence suggested. "He already knows
about those men being angry at us for getting the pottery they'd planned
to buy. That reminds me, I feel mighty bad about losing that pottery. I'd
written my friend I was shipping it, and she'll be expecting it."
"Mr. Andrews may recover it when--or if--he finds our car," Peggy
remarked.
"I certainly hope he recovers both the car and the pottery," Jo Ann said
with a sigh. "When I think of that gang of smugglers he's fighting--well,
I just get scared stiff. I'm afraid they're going to kill him before it's
all over."
"Let's try not to worry," advised Florence.
When they finally reached Jitters' House, they found José waiting for
them with the horses. His black eyes widened in surprise on seeing them
getting out of a strange car.
After the girls had thanked Mr. Gonzales and he had started off toward
the city, Florence told the mystified José what had happened, ending, "Do
not tell anyone about the car's having been stolen."
"I will not tell," he promised.
As the rest of the family had finished eating dinner by the time the
girls had reached the house, they ate alone and thus escaped being
questioned as much as they would have been otherwise. Shortly afterward
they went on to their bedroom. So engrossed were they still in talking
over their adventures that it was late before they could compose
themselves and go to sleep.
The next day lagged snail-like to the girls. All three went about their
household tasks with an air of subdued suspense.
Over and over Jo Ann found herself wondering about the mystery man. Was
he still alive? Perhaps even now he was lying badly injured--dying in
some remote gully in the desert. Had that awful presentiment he'd had
about losing his life--had it actually come to pass, or was it about to?
She shuddered at these gloomy thoughts.
Noticing how worried Jo Ann looked, both girls realized that it was the
mystery man's fate more than the loss of the car that was troubling her.
They both tried to take her mind off this subject, and Peggy even tried a
bit of teasing finally in her effort to make her less pessimistic.
"You're going around here with such a long face that your chin almost
touches the floor," she told her. "Miss Prudence'll be wondering what's
the matter."
"She's already asked me if you're sick, Jo," Florence added. "She said
you looked so pale and peaked that she'd about decided she'd better give
you some of her iron-strychnine tonic."
"Ugh!" Jo Ann ejaculated, grimacing. "That's the vilest-tasting stuff in
the whole world. I'd better turn up the corners of my mouth into a grin
right now." In spite of these words, her lower lip trembled threateningly
as she added, "When you know some person's life is in danger, you can't
help thinking and worrying about it."
"Snap out of the dumps," Peggy ordered. "I hear Miss Prudence coming. I
feel it in my bones that she's bringing her bottle of tonic."
Jo Ann obediently tried to force her lips into the semblance of a smile.
Peggy's and Florence's lips curved upward without any difficulty when
they saw Miss Prudence enter, actually carrying a bottle.
Jo Ann eyed the bottle askance a moment; then her face brightened into a
real smile as she read the label, "Furniture Polish."
"You girls don't seem to know what to do with yourselves this morning,"
Miss Prudence said briskly, "so I've decided to give you some extra
work--polishing the furniture."