SMUGGLERS
"A bullfight, Bess, we're going to a bullfight," Nan exclaimed as she
and Bess dressed for the afternoon excursion with Adair MacKenzie.
"Why, Nancy Sherwood, I never in all the world thought you were the
bloodthirsty creature that you are," Bess laughed at her pal.
"Oh, you are just the same, Elizabeth Harley," Nan returned. "When
Cousin Adair told us at the luncheon table what we were going to do this
afternoon, you were just as excited as the rest of us."
"I know it," Bess confessed. "But I expect to hold my ears and close my
eyes through the worst parts. They do say they can be very gory
spectacles with blood streaming all over everything."
"That's right," Nan admitted. "It scares me to think of that part, but I
want to see it anyway." As the girls talked, they dressed, combed their
hair, and then tidied up the room.
"Ready?" Laura stuck her head through the door and asked. "Amelia and
Grace are already downstairs. We better get started, or Grace will be
backing down. Really, I think she's scared to death, but is afraid to
admit it. Me, I'm going to love this."
"Me, too," Nan admitted. "I can hardly wait. I've read about them so
often. Remember the lecturer at Lakeview who had all those slides about
bullfights in Spain. I've wanted to see one ever since then."
"Yes, Mrs. Cupp was so angry over that. She didn't think it was the
proper sort of thing for young ladies to see. She thought it would
coarsen them," Laura finished primly. "Wait until we get back to
Lakeview, will we ever have some tales to tell her that will make her
hair stand on end! She'll have to go to bed for a week to recover."
"Oh, Laura," Nan laughed, "you sound as though you'd be brave enough to
tell her all about it yourself."
"Well, if I'm not," Laura joined in the laughter, "because we aren't
exactly bosom pals, you know, she'll find out. Nothing escapes her."
"Truer words were never spoken," Nan agreed as she adjusted her hat in
front of the mirror. "Come on, now, I'm ready. Are you, Bess?"
"Just a second." Bess was rummaging through her purse. "There's
everything here except the thing I want."
"Looks almost like an over-night bag," Laura commented as Bess poured
the contents out on the dresser.
"What in the world are you looking for?" Nan asked somewhat impatiently.
Bess never could find things in her purse because she had a habit of
saving everything and never cleaning the pocket-book out.
"Oh, my passport--I mean my visitors' pass." Bess really did look
worried. "I had it this morning. I know I did."
"All I can say is," Laura commented dryly, "if you've lost that, you
might just as well go out and drown yourself, because if you don't, Mr.
MacKenzie will roar so loud when you tell him that the earth will just
open up and swallow us all."
"I know it." Bess was almost in tears. She didn't like to be roared at.
She took scoldings harder than anyone else in the crowd, because at home
she had always been made to feel that what she did was right.
"Bessie, you're such a silly," Nan laughed. "You've got the wrong
pocket-book. That isn't the one you had with you this morning. You had
the little black one and that's over there on your trunk. Remember, you
put it there when you came in so that you would be sure to know where it
was when you wanted it again."
Bess laughed too now. "Isn't that just like me, always hunting for
something and always finding it just where it ought to be?"
"I do that too," Laura sympathized as they three left the room. And so
does everyone, but Bess had a habit of getting confused and impatient as
soon as things went wrong and using all her energy in getting excited.
Nan generally remained calm and found things. Laura was calm too and
that because she never took anything very seriously. If she couldn't
find one thing, another would do, and so she always went happily on her
way.
Bess was thinking of this, as Nan pushed the button for the automatic
elevator. "But you couldn't have substituted anything for the visitors'
pass." She directed her remark to Laura as though they had been talking
over the thing she was thinking about.
"Whatever are you talking about?" Laura laughed. "Or, is it a secret?
You know what happens to people in this country who go around talking to
themselves? They throw them to the bulls. Now, come on, Bessie," she
finished. "You may be a harum-scarum child, but we love you. Cheer up."
At this, the elevator jolted and settled to its place on the first
floor and the three girls stepped out to find Adair, Alice, Walker
Jamieson and the rest all waiting for them.
"Thought you had cold feet, and were backing out." Walker Jamieson
greeted them with this sally as they all walked down the entrance stairs
and out to their waiting car.
"Look!" Nan pointed at a street car they were passing.
"At what?" Laura questioned.
"Oh, you were too late," Nan answered while she adjusted her camera so
that it would be ready for her to take pictures when she wanted to.
"There was a sign on that car which said, 'Toreo.'"
"What does that mean?" Grace questioned.
"Bullfight, darling, that's where you are going now," Laura answered.
"See, there's the sign that Nan saw again. It's on the front of that bus
that's stopped across the street. This must be a holiday. Practically
everyone seems to have dusted off his best sombrero and come out on the
streets."
"It's a holiday everyday here." Adair MacKenzie turned around to join in
the conversation. "Saw a calendar of festivals posted in the hotel
lobby. No end to it. No wonder the people never get anything done."
"I saw that too," Walker Jamieson remarked. "Saw something else posted
on a bulletin board that was interesting. It was a warning to everyone
to take good care of his visitor's pass. Right beside it was the
announcement of a reward being offered to anyone who could give
information as to the whereabouts of one Antonio Mazaro, an American
citizen and former aviator, who is suspected of being an accomplice in
an international smuggling ring."
"They must be the smugglers Mr. Nogales told us about at the border,"
Nan remarked.
Walker Jamieson said nothing further. The truth, was, however, that he
had just an hour before received an assignment from a big New York
newspaper to cover certain aspects of this smuggling ring story, and he
was already wondering whether or not it was going to be possible for him
to go on to the Hacienda as he had planned.
"These Mexicans will never catch anyone, much less a band of American
crooks." Adair MacKenzie looked around again. "Need a couple of good
G-men down here, if they're going to find out anything at all."
"Think so too," Walker agreed, "they are sending some down, I
understand."
"You got your nose in the story?" Adair MacKenzie asked abruptly, and
everyone looked at Walker, waiting for his answer.