“CARLITOS—GONE!”
Before Jo Ann could ask any more questions Florence and Peggy came flying
out.
“What is the matter, Pepito?” Florence asked quickly. “Why were you
running so hard?”
“Car—li—tos—gone!” he panted, his eyes filled with tears.
“Gone!” Florence repeated. She wheeled about. “Girls, he says Carlitos is
gone—lost!”
She turned back. “How could he be lost? What’s happened?”
Realizing how exhausted Pepito was from running, Florence led him up to
the porch and made him sit down. “Rest a few minutes, then tell me what’s
happened,” she ordered.
After he had partially regained his breath, he began telling between sobs
that Carlitos and the burro had been stolen. Carlitos, he said, had
begged José to let him go to town to help sell the charcoal and that
while there both he and the burro had disappeared.
Florence rapidly translated his broken story to the impatient girls.
“Carlitos stolen!” Jo Ann repeated, puzzled. “Does he mean kidnaped?”
“Sounds like it.” Florence began questioning Pepito again. “Where is your
_papá_ now?”
“At the cave. When _mi papá_ tell us that Carlitos is lost, I come to
you. You can help us find Carlitos.”
Florence repeated his words to the girls, saying, “Poor child, he thinks
we can help them because we did before.”
“We’ve got to help,” Jo Ann spoke up emphatically. “We’ve got to find
Carlitos. Let’s go down to the cave right now and talk to José and find
out exactly what’s happened. Tell Pepito to stay here and rest while we
go to the cave.”
When Florence suggested to him that he stay and rest, Pepito shook his
head. “No, no, señorita. I go with you.”
Before starting to the cave Florence ran inside to tell her mother what
had happened. “Peggy says she’ll stay and finish getting dinner while Jo
and I go down and find out the details from José.”
“All right,” her mother replied. “I hope they’ll be able to find Carlitos
before night.”
By the time Florence came back, Jo Ann was hurrying down the trail,
Pepito following. Suddenly realizing that Pepito must not walk so
rapidly, Jo Ann checked her pace, although she could hardly wait to find
out from José what had really happened.
“I wonder if it’s possible that Carlitos has been kidnaped,” she thought
anxiously. “That mean mine boss tried to get him once—maybe he’s had
something to do with his disappearance.”
Just then Florence caught up with her and began talking over this new
trouble. “We’ll have to do something to help find Carlitos, Jo. Had it
occurred to you that that mean boss might’ve had a hand in his
disappearance?”
Jo Ann nodded. “I was just thinking that very same thing. The fact that
Carlitos is the rightful owner of the mine would give him a reason for
wanting to get him out of the way.”
“That sounds terrible,” Florence shuddered, “but it’s possible, all
right.”
As they neared the cave, the girls could hear the mother and grandmother
talking rapidly in shrill excited voices. On entering they saw José
crouched disconsolately in a corner, his face buried in his hands.
They stepped across to his side, and Florence began quickly, “José,
Pepito has told us about Carlitos. Tell us all about what happened to
him—how he disappeared—and where you saw him last. Maybe we can help you
find him.”
José raised his head, his dark troubled eyes lighting a little at sight
of the two girls who had helped to save his son’s life only a few days
before.
“Ah, _Papá_,” put in María just then. “The señoritas—our friends—they
will help us find Carlitos.”
“We hope we’ll be able to help,” Florence told them earnestly.
Brokenly then José began by telling how after several efforts he had
succeeded in selling only a few _centavos’_ worth of the charcoal, and so
he decided to exchange some of it for food. Leaving Carlitos outside to
watch the burro, he had gone into the little general store of the
village. After he had bargained with the storekeeper to exchange corn,
_frijoles_ and coffee for a bag of charcoal, he had hurried out to get
it.
To his amazement Carlitos and the burro were not in sight. Thinking they
might have wandered down the street, he started off to look for them.
They were nowhere to be seen, and after he had searched in vain all over
the few streets of the village, he was in despair. Finally, after
inquiring of several people, he found a man who said he’d seen a boy and
a man go by driving a burro—only there were no bags of charcoal on the
burro.
“I search much then, but I cannot find Carlitos or the burro,” he ended
sorrowfully. “I have much fear that harm has come to Carlitos.”
As soon as José had stopped talking, Florence translated his story to Jo
Ann.
When she reached the part about the man’s having seen a boy and a man
driving a burro without any charcoal, Jo Ann spoke up quickly, “Maybe
that boy was Carlitos.”
Florence turned back to José. “Do you suppose that boy was Carlitos who
was helping to drive the burro?”
José shook his head. “No, no. The man say this boy hit much the burro.
Carlitos no hit our burro.”
Jo Ann, who had caught the meaning of José’s words, put in, “Florence,
maybe the man was making the boy hit the burro so he could hurry him out
of the village. He probably wanted the burro too.”
When Florence translated this idea to José, he replied, “I thought of
that too. I try to find them, but it was impossible. I hunt for many
hours, but I find nothing.” He shook his head mournfully. “Carlitos
gone—the burro gone—the charcoal gone—no have money to buy food for my
children. Ah _Dios_, it is terrible!”
“I believe it’s that man from the mine who’s back of it all,” Jo Ann
declared again. “He could easily have taken the charcoal off the burro
and hidden it, and have frightened Carlitos into going with him.”
“That’s true,” agreed Florence. “He might’ve forced him to go at the
point of a gun. That mean boss wouldn’t stop at anything.”
“Well, we must do something about it right now. Let’s go to the village
and see if we can’t find out more about that man and boy. Will your
mother let us go to the village with José?”
“Yes, I’m sure she will. It’s not so far there.” She turned to José and
said, “We want you to go back to the village with us and see if we can
find out something more about Carlitos. Go to the goat ranch and tell
Juan to let us have two burros. We’ll go up to the house to tell my
mother and then meet you at the cart road.”
José nodded assent. “_Bien_, señorita, I go immediately.”
The girls hurried up to the house, and Florence quickly explained their
plans to her mother.
“I think it’ll be all right for you to go,” Mrs. Blackwell replied. “I
hope you can find Carlitos, but be very careful. That man is probably
capable of doing anything.”
“Oh, Mrs. Blackwell, he can’t be more dangerous than that bear,” put in
Jo Ann. “We’ll be careful. I believe I’ll take the gun along. I’ll feel
safer.”
“No, let’s take the pistol instead,” Florence put in. “The gun’s too
heavy.” She took a pistol out of her bag and handed it to Jo Ann, then
they set off down the trail and a little later found José at the road
waiting for them with the burros.
Jo Ann hesitated a moment before getting on her burro. “This is my first
experience riding without a saddle or a bridle.”
“Oh, it’s easy after you get used to it,” Florence encouraged. “You guide
a burro, you know, by hitting him on the neck with a stick.” She sprang
up nimbly onto the pack on the donkey’s back.
After Jo Ann had mounted on her burro she remarked, smiling, “This
burro’s so small and my legs’re so long that they almost drag on the
ground.”
“Sit farther back, the way the Mexicans do,” Florence called back. “It’s
much easier riding that way.”
José followed, walking closely behind Jo Ann, having no difficulty in
keeping up with the donkey’s pace.
“Isn’t there any way to make these animals go faster?” Jo Ann called to
Florence impatiently a few minutes later.
“They’ll trot a little ways, but they really make as good time by keeping
their steady pace. Remember you’re in Mexico, Jo.”
As soon as the three had reached the village, José took the girls to the
store in front of which he had left Carlitos and the charcoal-laden burro
a few hours before. “I know this storekeeper,” Florence told Jo Ann.
“He’ll probably know if any strangers have been in the village lately.
His store’s a meeting place for everybody in the village, and he hears
all the gossip.”
She went inside and began questioning the storekeeper. “Have you heard of
any strangers being in the village in the last day or two besides this
man?” She pointed to José.
The storekeeper nodded his head, “_Sí_, señorita. I saw a man this
morning that I have never seen before. He bought some cigarettes from
me.”
“Did he come in before this man—José—did?”
“_Sí._ He said he was looking for a family that had lived at a mining
camp across the mountains.”
Florence gave a little start. “Did he say why he wanted to find this
family?”
“He say they were his friends.” The storekeeper shrugged his shoulders
Mexican fashion and added, “I tell him I know nothing, and then he
leave.”
Florence hurriedly recounted this information to Jo Ann, ending
indignantly, “I believe that man was either the mean boss or someone he’d
sent to get Carlitos. José knows what the boss looks like, so we can find
out if the stranger was he.” She wheeled around to José and asked,
“What’d that mean boss look like?”
“Very fat.” José gestured with his hands to indicate a Santa Claus
figure, then twisted an imaginary mustache, adding, “and a big black
mustache.” He turned to the storekeeper. “Did that man look like that?”
The storekeeper shook his head. “No. He very small—no mustache.”
“I’m glad it’s not the boss,” exclaimed Jo Ann.
“I am, too,” Florence agreed. She turned to José and said, “Take us down
the street now where that man you talked to said he saw the strange man
and the boy driving the burro.”
While José was guiding them to this street which led to the outskirts of
the village, Florence caught sight of a familiar figure standing in an
open doorway. “Wait a minute,” she explained. “There’s a woman I know.
I’ll ask if she saw them pass.”
Florence hurried across the street and began explaining to the woman
about their search for Carlitos and the burro. “Have you seen anybody of
his description or heard anything about him?”
The woman shook her head, “No.”
Florence’s face fell. “Well, have you heard about anyone’s finding any
bags of charcoal? This boy’s burro was carrying two bags of charcoal when
he came to the village.”
The woman’s black eyes lit with interest. “_Sí_, señorita. Adela, the
woman who lives at the corner, told me she had found two bags of charcoal
in her yard this morning. She did not know how they got there.”
“Will you take us to her house and ask her to let us see the bags of
charcoal? This man”—she nodded over at José—“will know if they’re his
bags. His mother made them herself.”
The woman readily agreed to go with them, and in a few minutes they were
shown the bags of charcoal.
A gleam of recognition immediately shone in José’s eyes. “_Sí_, señorita.
These are the bags made by my mother.” His voice changed to a mournful
note. “That boy was Carlitos. That man was making him beat the burro—he
throw this charcoal over the wall. He very bad _hombre_.”
Jo Ann, who had caught the meaning of José’s words, put in quickly,
“We’ve got to find that man and get Carlitos away from him. There’s no
telling what he’ll do to him.”
“But José said he followed him for some distance out this way.” Florence
wheeled about. “José,” she asked, “which direction do you go to get to
that mine you came from?”
“You follow this road.” He gestured toward the winding road leading
across the valley to the range of mountains.
Jo Ann spoke up impatiently, “Let’s start after Carlitos this minute. If
we could find some horses to ride, we could overtake that man and
Carlitos even if they did have several hours’ start. That man wouldn’t
have taken the burro if he hadn’t intended using it. I know he can’t be
traveling fast with a burro along. Come on, let’s see if we can find some
horses.”
“We can get some horses here, I’m sure. Dad always gets his horse here
when he comes to see us—a burro’s too slow for him.” Florence stopped a
moment, then added hastily, “I believe I’ll call Dad—I can phone to him
from here—and tell him what’s happened and——”
“Oh, Florence,” Jo Ann broke in, “ask him if we can’t go straight on to
the mine. Tell him we’ll take José with us, and tell him if we don’t
follow that man and Carlitos at once we’ll never see Carlitos again!”
“Well, all right. Come on. We’ll go back to the store—that’s where the
only telephone in the village is. Come on, José.”