MORE PRECIOUS THAN JEWELS
At the very moment that Peggy was lying terror-stricken at the feet of
the mummies Dr. Blackwell had just made an alarming discovery.
He had been wakened from a deep peaceful sleep by the sound of vigorous
knocking on the outer door and had quickly scrambled out of bed and into
his clothes. He well knew that this knocking meant that someone was in
distress and needed his professional services. Louder and louder had come
the sound. Fearing that everyone in the house would be awakened, he had
hurried down to answer the door.
When he had not seen Florence at the head of the stairs, waiting to bolt
the door as usual, he had gone to her room and found it empty and the
beds undisturbed. Immediately he had run from room to room, calling the
girls, but had heard only the echoes of his own worried voice. All three
girls had utterly disappeared!
A terrible fear swept over him—they had been kidnaped! But no, that was
impossible, he told himself the next moment. Three strong, healthy girls
could not be carried off without making a sound.
What should he do? Call the police? Something must be done immediately,
but there was so much red tape connected with governmental affairs in
this country that it would be hours before anything could be done.
Perhaps it would be better to call his good friend Señor Rodriguez. He
would advise him the best steps to take.
Quickly, his hand shaking so he could scarcely write, he scribbled a note
to the Señor. It was almost illegible, but the words, “Come at once” were
plain, and that was all that was necessary.
Rushing down the stairs, he hurried past the man waiting at the door,
without speaking. The man stared after him in blank amazement. What was
the matter? Was the _Doctor Americano loco_?
On across the street ran Dr. Blackwell to the corner of the Plaza, where
a taxi could be found at any hour of the day or night.
He shook the sleeping taxi driver by the shoulder. “_Hombre, hombre_,
wake up! Take this letter to the Señor Rodriguez and bring him back with
you. _Muy pronto, sabe?_”
The lazy, easy-going Mexican straightened in surprise. He had carried
this American doctor on many an urgent call, but he had never seen him so
nervous and excited before. This must be something very important. Very
well, he would show _el doctor_ how he could hurry. There was a roar, the
grinding of gears, and the car was off like a shot.
In an amazingly short time Señor Rodriguez rushed into the office. He
found Dr. Blackwell slumped in a chair, his face in his hands.
“Doctor, what has happened? What is the matter?” he asked in Spanish.
In a few halting words Dr. Blackwell told him of the girls’
disappearance. “What shall I do, señor?” he ended, his voice vibrant with
emotion.
Before the amazed Señor could take in the situation and answer this
question, there was the sound of light, flying feet on the balcony floor.
The next moment, after one swift glance at her father, Florence dropped
on her knees at his feet, exclaiming, “Daddy! Are you sick?”
Startled at the sound of her voice, Dr. Blackwell almost jumped out of
his chair. “Florence!” he cried. “Florence!”
“What’s the matter, Daddy?” she asked anxiously.
In the moment of silence that followed her question she turned to Señor
Rodriguez. “Tell me what’s happened, señor.”
“Where’d you come from?” Dr. Blackwell put in before the Señor could
speak. “How’d you get here? Oh, child, I’ve been so frightened and
worried! I thought something terrible had happened to you and the girls.
Where are they?”
“Right here,” answered Jo Ann, who had just come running in with Peggy.
“Don’t—blame Florence—it’s really—all my fault.”
“Why, Dad, there’s nothing the matter with us—we’re all right,” said
Florence, rising. “We just went up on the roof and——”
“What _are_ you girls talking about?” he demanded, noticing for the first
time their disreputable appearance—their grimy faces, Jo’s bloodstained
shirt, and their knickers. “What have you been doing?”
“We’ve been solving the mystery,” eagerly explained Florence.
“What mystery?”
“Why, the mystery of that strange little window in the back of the
house.”
“But how did you get out of the house without unbolting the door? You
know better than to go out at this hour of night.”
“Don’t scold, Dad,” begged Florence. “We haven’t been down on the street.
We climbed through the little window and found a tunnel under the
street.”
“A tunnel!” he repeated, bewildered. “What in the world are you talking
about?”
“Why, there’s a long tunnel that starts under the back of our house and
goes under the street, clear to the church—and I don’t know how much
farther—there’s a regular network of passages, and——”
While Florence stopped to catch her breath, her father turned to Señor
Rodriguez. “Do you know anything about a tunnel under the street?”
Señor Rodriguez shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face.
By that time Florence had started talking again, her words tumbling over
each other in her hurry. “And we’ve found lots of valuable
things—candelabra—old papers—and jewels! Real jewels! Diamonds—rubies.
Open the box, Jo, and show them!”
With fingers fumbling in her haste Jo Ann was already untying the string
about the box. Her eyes shining, she turned its contents upon a chair in
front of Dr. Blackwell. Under the bright lights the jewels sparkled far
more brilliantly than they had in the tunnel.
In the silence that followed, the three girls waited breathlessly. What
would Dr. Blackwell and the Señor say about their discovery? Would they
be forgiven now for the anxiety they had caused?
After a long pause Dr. Blackwell gently pulled Florence down on the arm
of his chair. “They’re beautiful,” he said, “but I shudder to think of
the risks you three took to get them—of what might have happened to you.
No one would ever have known where you were. I’m so thankful to have you
all back safe and sound. You’re far more precious to me than these
jewels.”
“Oh, but, doctor, it wasn’t as dangerous as it sounds,” put in Jo Ann
eagerly. “We were very careful.” Recalling some of her moments of anxiety
in the past few hours, she hesitated and added a little less confidently,
“Perhaps it was more dangerous than we realized, but we’re all right now,
and we wanted so badly to solve the mystery of that window and to
surprise you.”
A smile passed over Dr. Blackwell’s face. “You surprised me all right.”
Encouraged by this change of expression on the doctor’s face, Jo Ann went
on, “I’m sorry you were worried. We thought we’d get back before you
discovered we were gone. You’ll forgive us, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Dr. Blackwell replied slowly, “provided you all promise never to
risk your precious lives that way again.”
“Oh, we’ll promise that, won’t we, girls?”
Florence and Peggy nodded an emphatic assent.
With a wave of her hand toward the jewels Jo Ann added, “Now that we’ve
explored that tunnel and found all these, we’re satisfied.” She turned
then and handed Señor Rodriguez the old yellowed papers. “I’m sure you’ll
be interested in these papers. They look like old records.”
Curiously the Señor unrolled one of the old documents and began reading
it. Soon he was poring over them, oblivious of everything else.
In the meanwhile the girls examined the jewels more closely and reveled
in their beauty.
Dr. Blackwell interrupted their chatter finally, saying, “I haven’t been
able to piece together all your disjointed account of your adventures.
Suppose you begin at the first, Jo, since you were the originator of the
whole thing, and tell the whole story.”
Jo Ann needed no second invitation. She began at once to give a vivid
account of their getting the rope and their climb to the roof; then went
on to their descent into the hidden room and the tunnel; and finally to
the discovery of the candelabra, papers, and jewelry. With the help of
Peggy and Florence not even the smallest detail was left untold.
“An amazing tale,” Dr. Blackwell commented when they had finished, “but
I’m still shuddering about the risks you took.”
Eager to change the subject, Jo Ann turned to Señor Rodriguez and asked,
“Can you make anything out of these papers?”
“Yes, Mees Jo.” There was a tinge of excitement in the Señor’s voice in
spite of his attempt to appear calm. “Dey are ver’ old records and I
t’ink may be ver’ valuable. One hab de name of my gran’modder’s family.
If dey are what I t’ink—ah, dat would be wonderful! Somet’ing dat has
been lost for many, many years—how you say in Ingles?—de missing link?
Wid your permission I would like to take dem to my office and study dem.”
“That’s just what we want you to do. I can hardly wait to find out more
about them. We would like your advice, too, about what to do with all
these beautiful things.” She gestured toward the jewels and then,
reaching over, picked up the opal ring that had so fascinated her. “This
is the most beautiful opal I’ve ever seen, and it’s set so artistically.
I’m glad my birthday’s in October, so it’s not unlucky for me to wear an
opal, since I’m particularly fond of that stone.”
The Señor smiled. “Since it’s your lucky stone, try this ring on, Mees
Jo.”
Obediently Jo Ann slipped the ring on her finger. “Oh, señor, it’s
lovely.”
While she was still admiring it, Peggy picked up the filigree necklace.
“This is the daintiest piece of all, I think,” she remarked.
“And this is the most beautiful, according to my notion,” smiled
Florence, pointing to a bracelet of old gold set with sapphires and tiny
diamonds. “The sapphire is my birthstone.”
Señor Rodriguez was much pleased by the girls’ admiration. “De people of
my country are ver’ artistic,” he said. “Dey make many beautiful t’ings.”
“To whom do you think all these jewels and things belong?” Jo Ann asked.
“And why were they put in that room under the church?”
“Mees Jo, I do not know. I am ver’ sorry dat I cannot answer you dat. I
have heard dat long ago in de wars de people carried der most valuable
t’ings to de church for safe keeping. I may be able to find out who owns
dese from de papers.”
“I’m sure these jewels are very valuable,” Dr. Blackwell remarked in
Spanish to the Señor. “I’m away so much that I don’t like to leave the
girls alone with them in the house. Would you take charge of them till
you find out to whom they belong?”
Señor Rodriguez nodded. “Yes, if you wish, doctor. I will be glad to take
them and put them in my safe till I find out to whom they belong.”