“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 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.”
CHAPTER XXI
WELCOME GUESTS
The next morning the girls waited anxiously for José to return from his trip to the village for the mail. They had wanted to go with him, but Miss Prudence had vetoed that plan with, “The sun’s so hot today, and Jo Ann’s looking so pale, that I believe you’d better not take that long horseback ride. I think I’d better begin giving her some of my iron-strychnine tonic.”
Jo Ann shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no, I don’t need any tonic! Indeed I don’t. Don’t waste any of your medicine on me. When it’s gone you’d probably have to send back to the States for some more.”
“Well, I’ll wait two or three days; then, if you’re not looking better by that time, you’ll have to take that tonic without fail.” Miss Prudence’s voice was firm.
When the family sat down to eat their lunch, José had not yet returned from the village.
Noticing that Carlitos was not at the table, Peggy inquired of Miss Prudence about him.
“He went with José after the mail,” she replied.
No sooner had she finished her sentence than Carlitos burst into the room, his blue eyes round and dark in his excitement. With his Spanish words tumbling over each other in his haste he blurted out, “Ah, senoritas, your automobile—it is stolen. Terrible!”
Not being able to understand him, Miss Prudence and Peggy stared wonderingly. Jo Ann’s and Florence’s faces, however, flamed scarlet with embarrassment.
“The cat’s out of the bag now,” flashed through Jo Ann’s mind. “We’ll have to tell the whole tale.” She could feel Mr. Eldridge’s eyes boring into hers.
The next moment Miss Prudence ordered sternly, “Carlitos, speak English! Tell me what’s happened.”
In halting English Carlitos repeated that the girls’ car had been stolen.
“Stolen!” ejaculated Miss Prudence. “What next?” She turned to her brother. “Do you suppose that Luis could’ve stolen it?”
“No. The girls drove to the city after Luis was taken prisoner.”
By this time Jo Ann had recovered her wits sufficiently to say slowly, “The car was stolen when we were in the city.”
“My stars!” Miss Prudence gasped. “Why—why didn’t you tell us before this? The idea of your not saying one word all this time! And you might’ve been stolen—kidnaped—yourselves!”
“Don’t get so flustered, Prue,” Mr. Eldridge advised. “The girls’re safe and sound if their car isn’t.” He looked over at Jo Ann. “Begin at the first and tell us exactly what happened. Florence, you and Peggy put in all the details she misses.”
Thus commanded, Jo Ann took a long breath and plunged into the story, beginning at her first anxiety over the mystery man’s presentiment about his going to be killed. From that she went on to their discovery of the smugglers’ car in the desert, their finding them in the village, and her reporting all this to the mystery man.
Other than a few exclamations and gasps Miss Prudence did not interrupt. But when Jo Ann stopped to catch her breath, she threw in, “Well, after all this wild adventure, I’ll be afraid to let you girls stick your noses outside the door. And here I’d thought all this time I was the perfect chaperon.”
The expression of stupefied amazement on his sister’s face made Mr. Eldridge smile half whimsically and say, “I’ve learned not to be amazed at anything this trio pulls off. There’re still several points not clear in my mind, though.” He began hurling question after question at the girls, till each felt as if she were being cross-examined on the witness stand.
Finally he was satisfied that he had gathered together all the loose ends of the story. His face was grave as he said, “I’m glad it’s all turned out as it has—so far, but hereafter don’t get tangled up in any way whatever with smugglers. They’re a dangerous set, as Mr. Andrews told you. Most of them would as soon shoot our officers as not. Indeed, they seem to look upon them as good targets for their practice. The next time you suspect anyone of being a smuggler, come tell me about it.”
So earnest and emphatic had Mr. Eldridge been that for the first time Jo Ann realized fully the risks she had been running. “I’m through with smugglers and their affairs from now on,” she declared. “I was more to blame for getting mixed up in this than Peggy and Florence. They’d have kept out of it if it hadn’t been for me.”
Florence spoke up promptly and began trying to share the blame, but Jo Ann shook her head. “No, I’m the guilty one.”
After this well-deserved lecture Jo Ann felt “indigo blue,” as she expressed it to the girls afterward. “If I could only hear from Mr. Andrews that he’s all right and that the smugglers were caught and the car found!”
The next day dragged on interminably, so it seemed to Jo Ann in her low state of mind.
“Oh, cheer up, Jo,” Peggy finally begged. “You’re going to get good news tomorrow, I feel it in my bones.”
“I hope your bones’re trustworthy,” Jo Ann returned; “but I have my doubts about their power to prophesy.”
On the morning of the fourth day Jo Ann woke in a more cheerful mood. “I believe we’re going to hear from Mr. Andrews today,” she told the girls.
Peggy smiled. “Your bones must be getting prophetic, too.”
When José appeared at noon with a letter from Mr. Andrews, Peggy and Florence were quite as excited as Jo Ann.
“Hurry up!” Peggy implored, as Jo Ann began to open it.
“Read it out loud—hurry!” urged Florence.
In another moment Jo Ann had unfolded the letter. “Why, it has only three lines in it! It just says, ‘All is well. Am bringing your car Saturday afternoon to San Geronimo. Hope to get there by four o’clock.’”
Jo Ann’s face was beaming by this time. “Just think! He’s all right—and so’s Jitters!”
“Gr-and!” chimed in Peggy, catching Jo Ann and Florence by the hands and circling about in lively dancing steps.
While they were still whirling about, Miss Prudence entered the room.
Jo Ann checked her fast-flying feet and sang out, “We’ve swell, elegant news! The mystery man’s alive, and he’s bringing our car to the village this afternoon—about four o’clock.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that!” Miss Prudence exclaimed. “Let’s see—if he reaches the village that late, he’ll probably come on out here. We must have a good dinner for him. That’s fine of him, bringing your car all that distance. Suppose you girls come to the kitchen and help me awhile. I’ll see that he gets some good New England cooking.”
Jo Ann grinned. “That lets us girls out. We’re from the South.”
Miss Prudence came back promptly with, “You’re all good help just the same. Come along.”
The three girls followed her to the kitchen and were soon busy helping her prepare the salad and dessert. So diligently did they work that they had finished before it was time for José to go to the village with the horses for the two men to ride.
“Let’s go with José,” Jo Ann suggested.
“All right,” agreed Peggy and Florence.
All three hurried off at once to change into their riding outfits.
When, about two hours later, they came in sight of Pedro’s store, Jo Ann’s sharp eyes spied two cars in front of the building. “One of the cars is a brand-new one. A beauty.”
“Maybe it’s Mr. Andrews’s,” Peggy suggested.
“That other one’s his, I know. I wonder where he’s parked Jitters. I don’t
see her.”
“I hope nothing has happened to her,” put in Florence.
With their faces lit by the broadest smiles, the three sprang from their horses and greeted Mr. Andrews, who had hurried out to meet them, Mr. Gonzales following closely behind him.
“Oh, we’re so happy you’re safe and sound—that you’re both all right!” Jo Ann welcomed them.
“We certainly are, too, aren’t we?” added Peggy.
Florence nodded. “Yes, indeed.”
“Did you capture the smugglers—all of them?” Jo Ann asked eagerly in the next breath.
Mr. Andrews smiled. “Not all of them; but the three ringleaders and the two whose trail you set me following are behind prison bars. That gang’s broken to bits; I can breathe more freely now. If it hadn’t been for you, I might be dead. I’m certainly grateful to you.”
Jo Ann drew a long sigh of relief, as did the other two girls. “That certainly is grand news,” she added the next moment.
“I hope that’s the last experience you girls’ll ever have of that kind,” he said earnestly.
A moment’s silence fell; then Jo Ann asked, “Where’s Jitters?” Suddenly recalling that neither man knew the name of their car, she added, smiling, “Our old Ford, I mean.”
The two men exchanged smiles before Mr. Andrews answered, “Jitters is a complete wreck—in a deep gully near the border.”
A look of utter bewilderment appeared on the face of each girl.
In another moment Jo Ann recovered sufficiently to say haltingly, “But—you wrote—you were bringing our car.”
“I did bring it. There it is!” Mr. Andrews gestured to the shining new car. “It’s a present for the assistance you girls have given us—to take the place of your Jitters.”
Three pairs of eyes flew open to their widest. So overwhelming was their amazement that for once none of them could speak for a full minute.
“You have done much for us,” Mr. Gonzales spoke up, smiling. “You have probably saved my life as well as Mr. Andrews’s. Muchas gracias.”
“But—but, Mr. Andrews—Mr. Gonzales,” began Jo Ann confusedly. “We do not deserve this fine new car. You must not give us such a—”
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