As soon as they reached Jitters’ House, they changed their clothes while José was putting the pottery crate into their car.
“Jitters is a picture now,” Peggy remarked on coming out to the car.
“You’ll be sure to see your handsome young man today,” teased Jo Ann.
So interested were the girls in their plans for the day, as they drove through the village, that Jo Ann for once forgot to look over at the pottery woman’s shack till after she had reached Pedro’s store. “Did either of you notice if the pottery was still piled up by the woman’s house?” she asked.
Both shook their heads.
“I’m sure it must be still there. The woman seemed to be certain that the men weren’t coming till tomorrow to get it. She said they’d sent her word this time.”
As there was little travel on the road, Jo Ann was able to make good time. As usual, she had planned to let Florence drive when they neared the city.
“At the rate you’re speeding, Jo,” Florence remarked finally, “we’ll be in town before we realize it.”
Jo Ann laughed. “Speeding in Jitters? Impossible. That old car in front of us isn’t built for speeding, either. It’s been keeping ahead at about the same distance for the last hour.”
“So I’ve noticed,” said Peggy. “It must be of the same year’s vintage as Jitters.”
“If she is, Jitters can beat her. I’m going to step on it and see if I can’t gain on her.” With that Jo Ann stepped on the gas, and soon their car was lessening the distance between it and the car ahead.
As they drew closer Jo Ann suddenly uttered an excited little cry.
“What’s the matter?” queried Florence and Peggy together.
“That’s the smugglers’ car!”
“You’re crazy, Jo!” ejaculated Peggy derisively.
“It can’t be!” Florence cried.
“But it is! I’m positive it is.”
“You’re just guessing,” retorted Peggy. “You can’t tell from here.”
“I’m going to pass that car, and you look hard, Florence, and see if those men aren’t the smugglers and if it isn’t piled full of pottery.”
“Oh, don’t, Jo,” begged Peggy, now beginning to be afraid that Jo Ann might be right. “Don’t try to pass it.”
With a warning honk of her horn Jo Ann sped up and started to pass the other car.
Almost simultaneously one of the men turned and stared incredulously, then shouted out a sharp order. The next instant the other man swerved his car dangerously toward them, trying to force them off into a deep ditch.
“Oh, step on it!” cried Peggy. “Step on it!”
“They’re trying to hit us!” shrieked Florence.
Somewhere from the back of Jo Ann’s mind came the command, “Keep your head!”
Automatically her nerves and muscles obeyed. She turned her car sharply and swiftly out toward the ditch as close as she dared, giving it all the gas that it would take.
For a perilous moment that seemed ages-long to the girls the car hovered near the edge of the bank. Instinctively both Florence and Peggy leaned to the other side of the car, as if to make their weight the deciding factor in keeping the car from falling into the ditch.
Then, to their unbounded relief, their car swept by, missing the other by a few inches.
“A miracle!” gasped Peggy.
“Keep stepping on it!” implored Peggy as she turned to look back at the smugglers’ car. “They’re coming full tilt after us.”
“O-oh, hear them yelling at us!” put in Florence, her eyes dilated with fright. “They’re trying to catch us. Step on it! Suppose they should shoot at us—or our tires!”
Though Jo Ann heard the girls’ earnest pleas, she wasted no energy in replying. Every cell in her brain must be centered on driving. That car was still dangerously near. They might push past and try that same trick of forcing her into the ditch on the other side. Moreover, the road ahead was much steeper and narrower. It wound threadlike up the mountain side. What if those smugglers should deliberately wait and force them off that high road! To be knocked off that steep rocky cliff would mean death for all of them. And what if her engine should go bad up there—or a tire blow out! “Steady, Jo,” she ordered herself. “Stop worrying and concentrate on driving.”
“They’re not gaining an inch,” Florence called out encouragingly then.
“But they’re not losing any,” added Peggy.
When, in spite of her determination not to worry, she had to slow down at turns in the winding road, she found her breath coming more and more quickly. Perhaps the smugglers could make the turns faster.
Again and again Florence encouraged her with, “They’re not gaining.”
Finally, when they were nearing the highest stretch of all, Florence exclaimed, “They’re dropping behind a little now! See, Peg!”
“Hot ziggity! They are, sure enough!” cried Peggy, vastly relieved. “I believe the worst’s over. But don’t slow down, Jo.”
“I won’t any more than I have to,” Jo Ann replied, cheered immensely by the girls’ assurance that the smugglers were dropping behind in the race.
“Good old Jo—and good old Jitters,” praised Florence. “They can’t be beaten.”
“Don’t brag too soon,” Jo Ann found time to say in short, clipped sentences.
She was determined to keep Jitters running at the greatest speed possible, and yet not be reckless in making the many sharp curves. With mind and eyes ever alert, she watched the road. She must be ready for any emergency.
Florence and Peggy kept turning every minute or two to watch the pursuing car.
“It’s losing ground right along,” Peggy kept saying, ending each time with, “isn’t it, Florence?”
Each time, to Jo Ann’s joy, Florence would reply with an emphatic “Yes.”
Still Jo Ann held to the maximum speed possible for safety. “Nothing like being on the safe side,” she told herself. “They might gain on us on the down grade.”
After they were on the downward stretch, both girls assured her that they believed the danger was over. “They’ll never catch us now unless we have engine or tire trouble.”
A few minutes later, on glancing back, Peggy exclaimed triumphantly, “They’ve about stopped! They’ve stopped now! On that highest curve. One of them’s getting out now. Maybe they have a flat.”
“Here’s hoping they have two flats,” smiled Florence.
“Why not wish for three, for good measure?” added Jo Ann.
“Say, aren’t you thankful Miss Prudence isn’t along?” Peggy asked suddenly.
Both girls smiled, and Peggy went on, “She’d have had heart failure or something by this time.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” declared Jo Ann. “She’d have rallied to the cause and encouraged me on, as you two did. When it comes to the test, she’s strong for action and plenty of it.”
A few minutes later Florence announced that it would not be long till they would reach the city. “Do you think we’d better change, Jo, and let me take the wheel?”
Jo Ann shook her head. “I don’t want to stop even long enough for that.”
“Oh, no, don’t change,” begged Peggy, immediately disturbed at the idea of stopping.
“I know the shortest way to the market now, and that’s where we want to go first,” Jo Ann declared. “I’ve got to find the mystery man at once, so he can get on the smugglers’ trail.”
“It won’t be easy for him to follow them even then,” Peggy said thoughtfully. “Can’t they go around the city some way?”
“No, that’s the only road till they get to the edge of the city,” replied Florence. “They’ll probably not come up into the main part.”
“I imagine the mystery man’ll phone or telegraph to the officers on both sides of the border to be on the lookout,” put in Jo Ann. “They could catch more of the gang that way.”
When Jo Ann turned into the street leading to the market, Florence remarked, “It’ll be no use trying to find a parking place in front of the market. It’s always full. You’ll save time by parking in the first empty place you find within a reasonable distance. I’ve wasted as much as half an hour hunting for a parking place down here.”
“We mustn’t waste any time anyway,” Peggy put in. “We have lots of things to buy for Miss Prudence, and I’ve a little shopping I want to do, too. We can be doing our buying while Jo hunts up her mystery man.”
At quite a little distance from the market Jo Ann found a parking place. No sooner had she stopped the car than she sprang out, saying, “I’ll meet you at that same booth in front, where we waited the other day.”
Off she rushed down the street, her fast-flying steps causing more than one Mexican to say smilingly, “Americana.”
When Peggy tried to lock the car a few moments later, she found that she couldn’t. “Something’s gone wrong with it,” she said, handing the key to Florence. “See if you can make it work.”
After several unsuccessful efforts Florence slipped the keys into her purse, saying, “Oh, let’s don’t worry any more about trying to lock it. We can get a boy to watch the car for us.” Hardly had she finished speaking than she caught a glimpse of the newsboy with whom Carlitos had been so friendly. “Here’s the very boy!” she exclaimed, gesturing to him to come to her.
The boy’s large black eyes lit in swift recognition, and he ran over to her side.
Florence quickly explained to him that she wanted him to watch the car while she went to the market.
With a nod of assent the boy answered, smiling, “Sí.I watch good for you. You are Carlitos’s friend.”
“He’ll watch it right; we won’t have to worry,” Florence said confidently as she and Peggy walked on down to the market.
Soon they were busily buying fruit and vegetables.
In the meantime Jo Ann had elbowed her way through the crowded aisles of the market to the pottery booth at the back. On reaching the booth she stared around, anxious-eyed, hunting for the mystery man. Oh, where was he? There wasn’t a sign of him anywhere. He’d said he was always around here at this time of day. What if he should’ve missed coming this day?
She walked slowly back of the booth and on around to the front again, her eyes scanning every man in sight. “He’s not here,” she told herself finally, “and I don’t know where else to go to look for him. Oh dear! The smugglers’ll get away again.”
Just as she had reached this discouraging conclusion a stalwart, olive-skinned man with a dark mustache and black hat stepped up to her side and said in a low tone, “Don’t show your surprise—I’m the man you’re looking for.”
The mystery man! Jo Ann barely suppressed a gasp of amazement. Disguised as a Mexican. The same aquiline nose and gray eyes, but how startlingly different he looked.
In almost an inaudible voice she told him as quickly as she could about the smugglers being on the way to the city.
The man’s eyes shone on hearing this news. “Good work. We’ll follow them this time and try to get the ringleaders of the gang as well as those two. I must get word to my men right away on both sides. You’re still at the La Esperanza Mine?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you know how I come out. Many thanks for your help.” With that the man rushed off toward a side exit.
Feeling relieved and happy that she had succeeded in delivering this message, Jo Ann walked on to the front to look for the girls and found them, as she had thought she would, buying fruit and vegetables.
Peggy was the first to spy her. “You don’t have to tell us you’ve had success, Jo,” she said. “You’re smiling from ear to ear.”
“I didn’t mean to be that jubilant.”
“You have a right to be happy,” Florence said warmly. “Peg and I are glad, too, aren’t we?”
“Sure.”
While Peggy and Florence selected the fruit and vegetables, Jo Ann made the other purchases, chiefly by means of the sign language, as her Spanish was not sufficient for bargaining. As soon as they had all finished their buying, Florence found two small Mexican boys to carry their piles of packages to the car. With the boys at their heels they started out to the street, Florence in the lead.
Just as she stepped out on the street, Florence caught sight of the newsboy, his face and head bleeding, almost surrounded by a crowd of people.
“Gracious! What can have happened to the poor child?” she gasped as she ran toward him.
As soon as he saw Florence the newsboy began explaining between sobs, “Oh, señorita, two men—stole—your car! I try to stop them—and one of them—knock me down.”
“Oh, that is terrible!” Florence cried, at the same time scrutinizing his wounds. “Not deep, but painful,” she decided before going on to question him about the appearance of the men.
Brokenly, the boy began describing the man who had hit him. “He had a scar—on his chin—and one eye squinted—an evil eye.”
“That sounds like the taller one of the smugglers,” Florence decided immediately. “Was he the taller one of the two men?” she asked.
“Sí.I try to keep them—from stealing your car, but——” The boy stopped talking to sob afresh.
“I’m sure you tried,” Florence comforted him. “Here is some money.” She handed him some coins and then a clean handkerchief, adding, “Wipe the blood with this.”
A tall professional-looking man stepped up just then and remarked, “I will look after the boy.”
With a “Muchas gracias” and an “Adios” to the boy, Florence hurried back to Jo Ann and Peggy, who were standing near by, still wondering what had happened.
As soon as she drew near, Florence burst out excitedly, “Our car’s stolen!”
Jo Ann’s and Peggy’s eyes stretched to their widest, and their lower jaws dropped.
Jo Ann was the first to recover from the shock. “Our car’s stolen! Why, who could’ve——Oh, it must’ve been the smugglers!”
“I’m sure it was,” Florence replied. “The newsboy described one of them exactly—the taller one.”
Peggy gasped audibly. “That settles it, then.”
“He hit the boy—knocked him down—then they drove off in our car.”
“I don’t understand why the smuggler should’ve hit the boy,” put in Jo Ann bewilderedly. “What’d the boy have to do with the affair?”
Florence and Peggy exchanged glances, then Florence answered, “I hired the boy to watch our car while we went to the market. The lock on the car wouldn’t work. I’m to blame.”
“Oh—I’m beginning to see now.” The bewildered expression on Jo Ann’s face slipped away, and a look of determination took its place. “We’ve got to get our car back right away.” She drew her brows together into a little frowning line of concentration.
“Hadn’t we better report it to the police?” Peggy asked.
Jo Ann shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe later. I believe we’d better hunt up the mystery man and tell——” She halted abruptly. “But maybe he’s left the city already. I hope not. I want to tell him our car’s license number, so he can follow it—especially since the smugglers might’ve discarded their car entirely. But maybe one of them might drive ours and the other one their car. Come on. We’ll plan what to do as we walk.” She caught Florence with one hand and Peggy with the other.
“But where’re we going?” queried Peggy.
“Anywhere so we can get away from this crowd,” Florence whispered, eying the curious onlookers, who were waiting to see what theAmericanaswere going to do.
No sooner had the girls started off down the street than Florence remembered about the two little boys carrying their packages. She glanced around and saw them following close behind, the packages piled up in their arms almost as high as their chins. “Gracious!” she exclaimed. “We can’t have them following us everywhere. We’d better have them take the packages back to the market and leave them there for a while. Walk slowly, and I’ll catch up with you in a shake.”
She wheeled about, gave a quick order in Spanish to the boys, and then accompanied them to the market. After leaving the packages at the same booth where they had waited before and paying the boys a fewcentavos, she flew back to the girls.
“I’ve decided to go to the telephone exchange first,” Jo Ann announced to her quickly. “Where is it?”
“One block down, then turn to the right and go about a block and a half.”
“Let’s step on it.” Jo Ann strode off in what Peggy always called her “long-legged gallop,” which meant that both she and Florence had to take two or three steps to Jo Ann’s one.
Having caught up with Jo Ann by running, Florence asked, “Why—are you—going to the exchange?”
“’Cause I feel sure that he was going to do some long-distance phoning—and he started off in this direction.” With that she galloped off faster than ever.
“People’ll think we’re crazy—running—along like this,” puffed Peggy.
Florence nodded assent “They’re saying, ‘Ah, those—queerAmericanas!’”
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’syou! 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 obediently tried to force her lips into the semblance of a smile. Peggy’s and Florence’s lips curved upward without any difficulty when they saw Miss Prudence enter, actually carrying a bottle.
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.”
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——”
“You have more than earned it,” smiled Mr. Andrews. “It is yours by rights. We owe you more than we can ever repay you.”
Convinced at last that the car was rightfully theirs, the girls began to exclaim delightedly:
“Grand!”
“Gorgeous!”
“Wonderful!”
“A thousand thanks from each one of us,” added Jo Ann, shining-eyed.
With that the three of one accord ran over to the car to inspect it and revel in its beauty.
“We’ll feel so elegant—so swanky, riding about in this car!” exclaimed Jo Ann.
They climbed inside then to admire the upholstery and shining gadgets.
A few minutes later Jo Ann was proudly driving out of the village, the two men following in the other car, and José with the aid of a small boy bringing along the horses.
“Won’t Miss Prudence and Mr. Eldridge be surprised when they hear about our new car?” Peggy remarked.
Jo Ann smiled broadly. “Miss Prudence was always scared of Jitters. She’ll be delighted.”
“What shall we name it?” Florence asked a moment later.