The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  Jo Ann slipped into the front seat of the car saying, “It’s my turn to drive Jitters this morning.”

  “I’ll sit with you to see that you don’t go too fast,” Florence remarked smilingly, dropping down beside her.

  Jo Ann laughed. “It’s Jitters herself that’ll keep me from exceeding the speed limit.”

  After they had left the city and had gone several miles, Jo Ann noticed that in the automobile just ahead of them were three men, one wearing a uniform and the other two in civilian clothes and large felt hats similar to the one the mystery man had worn. “The biggest one of those men in that car ahead looks exactly like the man I overheard talking this morning,” she remarked to Florence. “He’s the same size and is wearing the same kind of hat.”

  Florence smiled. “It seems to me most of the men I’ve seen so far in Texas are big and wear that kind of hat. You have that mystery man on your mind: that’s why you think you see a resemblance.”

  “Maybe so, but I believe it’s that very man.”

  “It’s possible that it is he, but”—Florence smiled—“I’m more interested in that man in the uniform. I believe he’s a traffic cop and is going to get you for speeding.”

  “Look at that sign!” Jo Ann pointed to another road sign indicating that the speed limit was 80 miles. “And now look at the speedometer. I’m going to let Jitters do her best now and pass that car. I want to get a good look at that man and see if it is my mystery man. I’ll feel relieved to know he’s still alive.”

  Jo Ann stepped on the gas and soon was swinging out to the side of the road. As she passed by the other car, she threw a swift but keen glance at the largest one of the men.

  “That is the mystery man!” she exclaimed a moment later. “I’m sure it’s he. I certainly am glad he’s still alive.”

  Florence relayed Jo Ann’s words to Peggy, whereupon Peggy craned her neck to stare out of the rear window at the occupants of the car. “Where do you suppose they’re going—to Mexico?” she asked Florence a moment later.

  Florence shook her head. “Ask me an easy question. That’s too hard for me.”

  “I wish I knew more about him. I wonder why he’s in such terrible trouble. I hope he’s going the same route we are.”

  “It’s high time we’re deciding whether we’re going by way of Brownsville or Laredo,” Florence called back, hoping that Miss Prudence would catch the anxious note in her voice. She and the other two girls had hinted very strongly to her that they would like to take the longer route, by way of Brownsville, so they could see Lucile Owen, one of their schoolmates, but Miss Prudence had so far refused to say definitely whether she would be willing.

  “I’d love to see Lucile,” Jo Ann put in, loud enough for Miss Prudence to hear, and adding also for her special benefit, “She says no one really knows Texas till he’s seen the Rio Grande valley and its citrus groves.”

  “It’s the most famous garden spot of Texas,” added Peggy.

  The girls could see that Miss Prudence was favorably impressed, but she still hesitated to give her approval, saying, “It’s so far out of our way—four hundred miles at least.”

  “I believe if we keep singing the valley’s praises she’ll give her consent,” Florence prophesied, low-voiced, to Jo Ann.

  “Whichever way we go, I hope the mystery man goes the same way,” Jo Ann replied. “I want to find out more about him. Is his car still following?”

  Florence turned around to see, then reported, “Yes, just a short distance behind.”

  Several times afterwards Jo Ann asked that same question, to have it answered each time in the affirmative.

  By about two o’clock she decided that they must be nearing the road turning off to Brownsville. “Miss Prudence’ll have to decide very shortly now which way we’re going,” she told Florence.

  Evidently Peggy was thinking the same thing, as the next moment they heard her appealing again to Miss Prudence to decide on that route. While Miss Prudence was still wavering about her decision, Jo Ann drove past the Brownsville road, but stopped as soon as Florence told her she had seen the sign. “We’ve got to decide right now,” she ended.

  CHAPTER III

  THE HITCH-HIKER

  Just as Florence was speaking, she and Jo Ann saw the car that had been following whiz by them with only the two men in civilian clothes in it.

  “Oh, there goes the mystery man!” Jo Ann exclaimed. “He’s going the Laredo road. I wish I could follow and see if anything happens to him.”

  Miss Prudence spoke up quickly: “We’re not going to follow anybody who’s expecting to be murdered any minute. We’d better go the Brownsville road. Back to that filling station and ask if the road’s good.”

  Jo Ann obediently backed the car to the filling station, though a queer feeling now possessed her that she ought to have kept on the Laredo road. “I can’t help feeling as worried over that man as if I’d known him for a long time,” she told herself. “I wonder if I’ll ever see him again.”

  By this time Miss Prudence was talking to the service-station man about the road.

  “I think the road’s okay, but”—he nodded toward a man in uniform—“he’ll know. He’s a coast guard and goes back and forth often that way. He’s waiting to catch a ride to Brownsville now.”

  Miss Prudence inspected the tall blond young man closely, then remarked low-voiced, “It might be a good idea to have him go with us: coast guards are used to protecting people.”

  “I hope she asks him to ride with us,” Jo Ann whispered to Florence. “He might know about the mystery man, since he’s been riding in the car with him.”

  The next moment Miss Prudence gestured to the coast guard, who promptly hurried over to the car and in answer to her questions began praising the road and the beauty of the valley.

  “Californians could learn how to boost higher and better from him,” Jo Ann thought, smiling. “Miss Prudence’ll be sure to go now.”

  She was right. Miss Prudence promptly decided to go to Brownsville and asked the coast guard to accompany them. To make room for him on the front seat, she ordered Carlitos and Florence to exchange places.

  “You’re the sandwich filling now,” Jo Ann laughingly told Carlitos, as he slipped in beside her.

  Carlitos smiled doubtfully. From the expression on her face he knew she must be joking, but he could not understand the point.

  After she had explained it to him, she told the curious coast guard briefly how it was that Carlitos, though an American by birth, was just beginning to speak English. The guard, proud of his newly learned Spanish, began talking in that language to Carlitos, much to his joy and to Miss Prudence’s disapproval.

  At the first break in their conversation Jo Ann quickly recounted to the guard the strange telephone conversation she had overheard in the hotel and ended tentatively, “I believe that man I overheard was one of those men whose car you were in.”

  “You’re probably right,” the guard replied. “I’d never seen either of those men before they picked me up, but they told me they’d been chasing some smugglers who’d been bringing in dope and gold across the Mexican border. I shouldn’t like to be in those men’s shoes. Those smugglers belong to a desperate gang who’re as cold-blooded as snakes. They’d as soon kill anyone as not.”

  “With as many officers as we have, it looks as if they could stop that smuggling,” Jo Ann replied.

  The guard shook his head. “Easier said than done. When we get to Brownsville, I’ll show you just one of the smugglers’ many tricks—how some of the boldest bring dope and gold across the bridge there, closely guarded as it is. Smugglers have whole bags of such tricks.”

  “Be sure to show us that. It’ll be interesting to find out first hand about smugglers.”

  Though it was dark when they reached Brownsville, Jo Ann reminded the guard of his promise as he was about to get out of the car near the International Bridge.

  “Sure, I’ll show you if you want to see
,” he answered. “It’s black as pitch under the bridge now, and you’ll get a better idea of how the smuggling’s done.”

  Jo Ann turned to Miss Prudence and rapidly explained that the guard was going to show them how some of the smuggling was carried on across the border.

  Miss Prudence raised her eyebrows in disapproval. “I hardly think you girls need any information along such lines. Of course, it’s probably a little interesting—in a way—to see how smuggling could be carried on right under our custom officials’ noses, but—”

  Jo Ann smiled to herself. Miss Prudence was as curious to know about smuggling methods as she was. “She’ll consent—after she objects a while.”

  Jo Ann was right. Finally, after protesting a few more minutes, Miss Prudence gave her permission, and all five followed the guard below the bridge. Blinded by the sudden change from the lighted street, they stumbled along in the darkness, half terrified at their daring.

  “The river’s very low now,” the guard explained. “Anyone can manage to crawl down the bank and get out a long way under the bridge and hide. Just before the smuggler, coming from the Mexican side, nears the appointed place, he whistles his signal to his confederate waiting under the bridge, then tosses his package over the railing to him.”

  “There might be some of those smugglers here this very instant,” Miss Prudence whispered nervously. “Let’s go back.”

  “They might think we’re spying on them and shoot us,” added Peggy.

  Jo Ann heard the amused note in the guard’s voice as he answered, “There won’t be any smuggling going on this early in the evening.”

  “But it’s pitch dark,” Miss Prudence put in.

  “And terribly scary,” added Florence, grabbing Jo Ann by the arm. “Come on.”

  Even though Jo Ann was reluctant to leave this fascinating spot, she too felt more comfortable when they climbed back up the bank and out on the lighted sidewalk again. Her thoughts centered once more on the mystery man whose work kept his life endangered by smugglers.

  “I hope he breaks up that gang of smugglers without losing his life,” she told herself.

  After they had said good-by to the coast guard, they went to the nearest hotel.

  “The first thing we’ve got to do now,” Jo Ann said while they were being whisked up in the elevator, “is to phone Lucile and tell her we’re here.”

  “She’ll be sure to invite us to her house to dinner tonight,” put in Peggy, her eyes shining with anticipation.

  “Won’t it be nice to be together again?” added Florence.

  As soon as Jo Ann had succeeded in getting Lucile on the telephone, Peggy and Florence listened eagerly to the one-sided conversation and tried to guess the other side.

  Lucile’s eager voice came back quickly in answer to Jo Ann with an invitation for all five to spend the night at her home. “You’ve arrived at the right moment,” she went on. “Edna is visiting me and I’m having a little dinner party for her tonight.”

  Jo Ann refused the first part of the invitation, explaining that they had already secured their rooms at the hotel. “We’ll be delighted to come to your dinner party, though,” she added.

  Miss Prudence broke in quickly with an emphatic, “Tell her it’ll be impossible for me and Carlitos to come. I’m too tired to go another step anywhere. If they’ll come after you girls and bring you back, it’ll be all right for you to go without me.”

  Jo Ann relayed this message to Lucile, ending, “We’ll be ready when you get here.”

  CHAPTER IV

  PRESSING DIFFICULTIES

  After Jo Ann had finished talking to Lucile, Florence and Peggy asked together, “Is it a real party she’s having? Will we have to dress up?”

  “Yes, we’ll have to wear dinner dresses, of course. We’ll have to speed, too, if we’re to be ready when she gets here.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid my blue crêpe’ll be a mass of wrinkles,” Peggy exclaimed as she hurried over and began unpacking her clothes.

  “Get my dress—the pink taffeta—out, too,” Jo Ann called out on her way to the bathroom. “It’s in your suitcase. I’ll have my bath in two jiffies and be in my dress in another one.”

  When she reappeared in the room a few minutes later, garbed in a negligee whose rose color matched her fresh glowing cheeks, she found that Miss Prudence and Carlitos had gone to the dining room and that Florence and Peggy were standing lamenting over the wrinkled state of their dinner dresses.

  “Our dresses are terribly rumpled, and yours is the worst of the three,” Peggy remarked with a worried frown. “I hate for us to disgrace Lucile by coming to her party looking like wrecks of the Hesperus.”

  “We won’t have time to send them out to a pressing shop or even to the maid here in the hotel—we’d never get them back in time to wear,” added Florence.

  “Oh, stop worrying!” Jo Ann sang out, as she ran the comb through her curls. “I’ll press all three dresses while you’re getting your baths. You have a small electric iron in your bag, didn’t you say, Florence?”

  “Yes. It’s really a toy that I’m taking as a present to one of the little girls in my neighborhood. The cord’s so short—I doubt if you can use the iron.”

  “Get it out and I’ll use it all right.” Jo Ann’s voice was confident.

  When Florence handed the iron to her and she saw how short the cord was, she began to feel dubious, though her determination did not waver. She’d manage some way. After a hasty look about the room she saw there was only one usable light socket in the room—the high ceiling one above the bed.

  “I’ll have to attach the iron to that socket.” She pointed to the ceiling light.

  Florence looked at the diminutive cord and laughed. “You can’t do it.”

  “If you’ll hold me steady, you’ll see.” Jo Ann climbed up on the foot of the bed. “Hold my legs, now.” She stood tiptoe on this perch and after many efforts succeeded in putting the plug into one of the center sockets.

  That done, she stepped down on a newspaper on the bed, but to her disappointment she saw that the cord lacked at least four feet.

  Peggy and Florence burst into giggles at the funny sight of Jo Ann holding the iron in midair.

  “Stop giggling, sillies, and do something, quick. This iron’s getting hot, and I’m getting tired holding it. Get that table over there and put it up here on the bed. Hurry!”

  The two girls rushed over to the table, jerked off the water pitcher and glasses, and then carried it over and lifted it on top of the bed. The iron still hung at least two feet above the table.

  “Oh gee!” wailed Jo Ann. “Get something else to put on top of the table. Step on it! Don’t run around in circles like a puppy after its tail, Peg.”

  “Thanks for the beautiful comparison,” Peggy grinned. “You’re equally funny looking yourself, springing up and down on that bed every time you move.”

  “Can’t help springing. It’s the springiest bed in all Texas.”

  By that time Florence had brought over the low luggage stool and placed it on top of the table. But even with its added height there were several inches between it and the iron.

  “There’s nothing else to put on top of that—except the dresser,” called out Peggy between giggles. “Oh yes, maybe the telephone book’ll help.” She ran over with it and several magazines and piled them on top of the luggage stand.

  “Attaboy!” Jo Ann ejaculated triumphantly as she set the iron down on the magazines. “Now bring me something for an ironing-board cover and the dresses.”

  In a few more minutes she was ironing away energetically, swaying back and forth in her efforts to keep her balance on the springy bed. “Stop staring at me and giggling and get dressed, you sillies. What’s so funny now?”

  “I was just wondering what the manager’d say if he’d come in and catch you ironing,” grinned Peggy. “It’s against the rules to iron in a room—at least, it is in all the hotels I’ve ever heard of.”

 
; Jo Ann flushed guiltily. Noticing that the sliding wood panel of the door was down and that someone might be able to peer between the slats of the blinds at the screened top, she implored Peggy to slide the panel up. Peggy obediently pushed the panel up as commanded, but no sooner had she turned away than it slipped down with a crash like a pistol shot.

  Both girls jumped in alarm, and Jo Ann almost tumbled off the bed.

  “Now we’re in for it!” Jo Ann gasped. “Someone’ll think we’re shooting in here and will come to investigate. Shove that panel up again—quick. Push a chair against it to hold it in place.”

  After a few minutes had passed and no one had come to investigate, Jo Ann breathed more freely. Just as she was complimenting herself on coming to the finishing touches of her pressing, there came a sudden knocking at the door. Jo Ann was petrified. Was it the manager? She shook her head vigorously at Peggy, who was starting to open the door.

  The next moment the door was rattled violently. Simultaneously the panel banged down again.

  From the hall there sounded a woman’s shrill voice.

  “Miss Prudence!” the girls gasped.

  “Open the door this instant, Peg, and get her inside before someone else comes,” Jo Ann ordered.

  The moment Miss Prudence stepped inside and saw Jo Ann perched on top of the bed, ironing, she stared in amazement. As soon as she had recovered from her first surprise, she burst out, “What does this mean? Don’t you know it’s against the rules to iron in your room? I’ve never stayed in a hotel anywhere that allowed ironing in the rooms. We’ll get in trouble yet—besides having to pay extra money. You’d better stop this instant.”

  “But I’m most through now,” Jo Ann replied meekly. “In a few minutes I’ll have my dress finished.”

  “But just suppose the manager should knock on the door and catch you on top of the bed like this?”

  As Miss Prudence was still worrying when Florence had finished dressing, she decided to see for herself what the hotel rules said about ironing. She walked over and began glancing at the printed rules hanging on the wall by the telephone.