Peggy shook her head dubiously. “Well, I hope you know what you’re talking about—I don’t. Here comes Florence—she must be ready to leave.”
“And the faithful watchdog following, as usual. You know, I believe he’s getting suspicious. Several times I’ve noticed him looking at me with the queerest expression.”
“You know Florence said he never misses a thing. He’s probably wondering what you’ve done to your face.”
On reaching home the girls found breakfast waiting, but Jo Ann could scarcely eat in her eagerness to get to the balcony before Felipe cleaned the office.
While Florence went to the kitchen to discuss menus with Juana, Jo Ann and Peggy slipped to the balcony. The rope, they found, was hanging just as they had left it the day before, and while not very conspicuous against the dull gray color of the wall, Jo Ann felt that it ought to be put completely out of sight. As she studied the wall, she unwound the roll of heavy cord she had bought earlier in the morning.
“Look down the street, Peg,” she ordered. “Do you see anybody?”
“No, it seems practically deserted right now,” Peggy replied. “Why?”
“I have to climb part way up that rope again, and I don’t want any spectators,” she explained while fastening the cord to the end of the rope. “If you see anybody coming, let me know.”
“All right.”
As soon as she began climbing up the rope, Jo Ann realized how sore her muscles were from the unusual strain she had put upon them the day before. Would she be able to make it to the top? she wondered. “I’ve got to do it,” she told herself the next moment, tightening her lips into a firm line.
Inch by inch she pulled herself up, slipping the cord through each of the loops in the rope as she went. On reaching the roof she found it extremely difficult to steady herself while passing the cord through the highest loops, but as she was determined to pull the rope up as high as possible, she kept on trying. Having succeeded at last in getting it through the loop at the roof’s edge, she took the end of the cord between her teeth and began to slip slowly down the rope.
When she was a little over halfway, Peggy suddenly cried, “Hurry, Jo! Here come some people! I believe they see you—they’re looking this way. Hurry!”
Instinctively Jo Ann turned her head to see the people. As she did so, her elbow scraped the rough plastered wall. A sharp pain instantly shot through her arm, and slightly loosening her hold on the rope, she slipped rapidly to the floor.
“How silly of me to do that!” she grumbled, examining her arm. Her sleeve, she saw, was torn, and blood was running from a place where the skin had been scraped off. “It looks as if I’ll have to be packed in cotton wool to keep from getting hurt—but this is not finishing my work, and Felipe may come out here any minute.”
Hurriedly she searched for an inconspicuous place to fasten the end of the cord. Finally noticing the hand-wrought hinge on the door, she decided that this offered a good hiding place.
She began at once to wind the cord into a small tight ball, and as she pulled the end of the cord, the heavy rope attached to it started to crawl snakelike up the wall. When at last the rope hung in several long loops at the edge of the roof, she fastened the cord to the door hinge and jammed the ball into the crack above.
“That’ll be all right as long as the door isn’t closed,” she said, “and it seldom is—at least, it hasn’t been closed since we’ve been here. It doesn’t show much from here, and it can’t be seen from the inside of the office.”
Leaning against the balcony rail, she and Peggy surveyed the wall approvingly. The string was almost invisible, and the loops of rope at the top were scarcely noticeable, so high were they above the street.
“No one would ever see that unless they were looking for it,” agreed Peggy. “But how’re you going to get it down? Didn’t you say you were going back up there?”
“Sure I am, but that’s simple enough,” Jo Ann replied. “When I loosen the string the rope is heavy enough to drop down of its own accord.”
Hearing a sudden noise behind them just then, they started guiltily. There stood Felipe in the doorway. Immediately Jo Ann wondered how long he had been there and how much he had seen.
“I’m glad he couldn’t understand what we were talking about,” she said to Peggy. “He’s the perfect watchdog, all right.”
Smiling now as they realized how nearly they had come to giving themselves away, they strolled nonchalantly around the balcony and entered the room from the farther side.
“You want to clean the room?” Jo Ann asked, pointing to the broom and mop.
Felipe grinned and nodded his head, “Sí, señorita.” While not understanding the exact words, he had understood their meaning.
Could Peggy and Jo Ann have seen him a few minutes later, they would have been very much amused and not a little worried. The minute they were out of sight he stepped out on the balcony and stood gazing up and down the street, then turned and searched the balcony, but in vain.
“Muy curioso, las Americanas[Very curious, these Americans],” he muttered, shaking his head.
After the injured arm had been bandaged with Peggy’s assistance, the girls wandered to the back of the house in search of Florence. Finding her in the kitchen in the middle of baking a cake, they stayed to help her.
To Jo Ann’s relief Dr. Blackwell did not appear at lunch, but when he came in an hour later, she happened to be passing through the hall. On seeing her Dr. Blackwell stopped to call to her that he had met Señor Rodriguez and that the Señor had sent a special invitation to her and the other girls to visit his library that afternoon. “Does that conflict with your plans?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Jo Ann answered quickly, forgetting all about her sunburned face. “I’ve wanted to meet Señor Rodriguez and talk to him ever since you told me about his library. Maybe I can find out more about your house and the old church this afternoon.”
The moment Dr. Blackwell left she remembered her previous anxiety about his seeing her sunburned face. “I forgot all about my face,” she smiled to herself. “Well, I’m going to Señor Rodriguez’s this afternoon, sunburn or no sunburn. Surely in such a fine library as his I can get some information that’ll help me find out more about this house, especially about that mysterious window.”
When, after the siesta, the girls began getting ready to go to Señor Rodriguez’s, Peggy applied cream and powder to Jo Ann’s face with the most painstaking care.
“I believe I’ll start a beauty shop,” she declared as she stood back and gazed approvingly at Jo Ann’s face. “You actually look pretty now.”
Jo Ann grinned. “Only a real artist could have performed that miracle. I don’t care much about the pretty part, though. All I want is to pass muster under Dr. Blackwell’s inspection.”
“You will—don’t worry.”
Dressed in fresh dainty frocks, the three girls were waiting on the balcony when Dr. Blackwell drove up in the car to take them to Señor Rodriguez’s.
Since Florence had told her about the Señor’s beautiful patio, Jo Ann gazed eagerly about when they entered the cool, spacious corridor of his house. The mosaic tiles of the floor seemed to her to reflect all the bright colors of the flowers in the beds beyond and of the potted plants clustered about the stone pillars which supported the graceful arches of the court.
The servant immediately ushered them into thesalaor drawing room, a room of immense size and well-proportioned lines. Several large mirrors in heavy, gold-leaf frames, she noted, filled much of the wall space and gave the room the appearance of even greater size. The full-length double windows next caught and held her attention, curtained as they were with exquisite hand-made lace, which contrasted strangely with the iron bars.
The next moment their host and his wife entered: Señora Rodriguez, short, plump, and motherly, and the Señor, tall and distinguished-looking.
At first glance Jo Ann’s hopes sank. How could she ask this austere, dignified gentleman all of the questions which had been uppermost in her mind? Was the visit she had looked forward to with so much pleasure going to be in vain? Since the introductions were in Spanish, she felt a little ill at ease—all the more so when she saw Señora Rodriguez kiss Florence, first on one cheek, then on the other, and pat her on the back.
“If she kisses and pats me that enthusiastically on my sunburned skin, I’ll be sure to flinch,” she told herself.
The next moment Señor Rodriguez turned to her and, smiling, asked in broken English, “Are you de young lady who speak de Spanish?”
“Oh, no, señor, I can’t speak Spanish,” she answered timidly.
“El doctorsay you have study de Spanish,” he insisted.
“Sí, señor, I studied Spanish two years,” she replied, “but I speak very little.”
“Ah, my dear young lady,” he said pleasantly, “if you do not try, how can you learn? You must speak to me in de Spanish. You see, my Ingles ver’ bad. I am too old to learn de Ingles now.”
“Oh, no, señor,” quickly replied Jo Ann. “You speak very good English. Much better English than I do Spanish.”
“Gracias, señorita,” he replied, smiling. “But how can I know?—you have not speak de Spanish. My son, Joaquin, speak de Ingles perfect-ly. I send him to college in de States. You know—Harvard—I t’ink you call it?” he asked, pronouncing it Arvard, since the h is always silent in Spanish.
“Oh, yes, indeed! I know Harvard. It is a college of very high standing. Does he like it there?”
“Sí, he likes it ver’ much. Dis year he finis, den he come home, and I take him in de office wid me. If he vas here now he could help you. De doctor say you are interes’ in de history of my city.”
“Sí, señor, I am,” she answered quickly. “I want to find out all I can about that old church across the street from Dr. Blackwell’s house. Both it and the house are so old, I feel sure there must be some very interesting things connected with them.”
“I t’ink you are right, and I shall be ver’ happy to assist you,” he offered. “We feel proud to t’ink you are interes’ in our city. Did you not want some books?”
“I’d like to see some that contain old records and accounts of the early history of the city, about the time that church was built.”
“If you come dis way, please,” he said, bowing, “we shall see what we can find.”
By this time Jo Ann had completely forgotten the feeling of doubt and awe she had felt at first. The Señor was a very gracious host and had not laughed at her strange idea. Eagerly she followed him across the hall to a room only slightly smaller than the drawing room. Bookshelves lined most of the wall space, and a long table and several chairs were the only furniture.
“It’s decidedly a man’s room,” she thought: “restful—quiet—just the kind of a room in which to study.”
Soon she and the Señor were oblivious of everything. They had something in common—books—even if they were in Spanish. In a short time they were chatting pleasantly, unconsciously using a mixture of English and Spanish. Together they searched old books and records, laying aside several for her to take home so that she might study them at her leisure.
In the meantime, Señora Rodriguez had taken the other guests to the patio to see her flowers, and after about half an hour she came to the library door and called softly to her husband, “Papa, you must not keep the young lady here so long—she will get tired.” Addressing Jo Ann she asked, “Perhaps you like to see my flowers, eh?”
“I’d love to,” replied Jo Ann, unconscious of having spoken in Spanish.
“We have themeriendafirst, then I show you the flowers,” she said, leading Jo Ann to where the girls and Dr. Blackwell were seated in the cool pleasant court beside the flower garden.
“What could be more beautiful and restful?” Jo Ann thought as she gazed across the patio with its stuccoed wall overhung with flowering vines, its fountain tossing sparkling sprays of water into the sunshine, and its roses, jasmine, and orange blossoms filling the air with their mingled fragrance.
By this time the servants had noiselessly brought in the refreshments and placed them on an exquisitely inlaid tea table. While Señora Rodriguez passed rich little cakes and sweet buns with squares ofjalea, a stiff jelly, the servants served thick black coffee and delicious, rich chocolate beaten to a froth.
“Jo, isn’t this simply gorgeous!” sighed Peggy happily. “I’ve never enjoyed anything more in my life.”
Jo Ann nodded an emphatic assent, adding, “And I’ve never seen such a beautiful patio before.”
After Señora Rodriguez had proudly shown Jo Ann her flowers, Dr. Blackwell announced that he had several calls yet to make and that they would have to leave. Silently the girls rose to go. With true Mexican courtesy Señora Rodriguez loaded them down with flowers and kissed each girl on both cheeks, but to Jo Ann’s relief there was no patting on the back.
Laden with books and flowers, they drove home through the soft, tropical twilight, Peggy and Jo Ann completely charmed by the dignity and friendliness of the Rodriguez family.
“I’ve never met finer people,” declared Jo Ann enthusiastically to Florence on their way home. “I admit I was a little afraid of the Señor at first. He was so tall and dignified, but I forgot all about that when I’d talked to him a few minutes. It’s easy to understand why he’s such a good lawyer, isn’t it?”
“Yes, he’s a very remarkable man,” agreed Florence. “I was sure you would enjoy meeting him and his wife. By the way, Jo, did you get any information this afternoon that will help you?”
“Yes, I found out several things,” she replied. “From the old records we found that the city was founded in 1560. The Señor said that the old Mexican towns were always built around the church. That and the Plaza formed the hub around which the city grew. If that is the case, then it is possible that the church was built even earlier than 1560, before the founding of the city.”
“You mean that the church is three—no, four hundred years old!” exclaimed Peggy.
“Yes, and since Florence’s house is between it and the Plaza, it was built at the same time or before. It seems to be the very center of the hub. I’m more convinced than ever that its history is in some way connected with that of the church.”
After Dr. Blackwell had gone on his calls and Florence and Peggy were chatting together, Jo Ann studied the books she had brought home. Page after page she read, slowly and with much difficulty, about the Aztecs and the coming of Cortez; of the growth of the Spanish territory until it reached from ocean to ocean, and from Panama to Vancouver Island on the north; about Hidalgo, Morelos, and General Iturbide; of rebellions and civil wars. The wars might explain the reason for these thick walls, she mused. They always used the church as a place of refuge. Perhaps this house was used for the same purpose.
To her disappointment, however, she could find no reference to either the house or the church in the books. She threw down the books at last, exclaiming, “It’ll take me ages to get much help from these! It’s worse than hunting a needle in a haystack. In Spanish they go all around the bush before coming to the point, and while it’s beautiful to read, it’s difficult to find what you want.”
“Calm yourself, my dear—calm yourself,” said the astonished Peggy. “You’ve been talking for days about these books, and now that you have them, you go all up in the air. What a changeable person you are!”
“I’m not changeable. I’m glad I have the books, and I’m going to study them—very carefully, too, but I can’t stand this suspense any longer. I want to find out something definite about this houseright now. I know exactly how to get the information I want, and I’m going to get it—maybe tomorrow. I’m almost tempted to do it this very night.”
“What are you talking about?” cried Florence, alarmed by the determined expression on Jo Ann’s face. “What wild thing are you planning to do?”
The stillness of the night was suddenly shattered as a booming noise vibrated through the silent old house. There it was again. Boom! Boom! It echoed and re-echoed through the great hall and high-ceilinged rooms.
“What was that?” whispered Peggy as she and Jo Ann sprang up in the darkness, wide awake in an instant.
“I don’t know,” Jo Ann whispered back. “It sounded like shooting. Do you suppose someone’s starting a revolution? You never know what to expect next down here.”
“I knew you shouldn’t have read those old histories last night, Jo,” murmured Florence drowsily, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “You seem to have war on the brain.”
“Well, what in the world was that noise, then?” retorted Jo Ann. “I know perfectly well I did hear something that sounded like a gun or a——”
Before she could finish her sentence the booming noise sounded again in rapid succession.
“Now! I suppose I’m imagining things, am I?” she scoffed.
Florence broke into a peal of laughter as she rose and began hastily putting on her robe and slippers. “I’m really surprised, Jo, that you could be fooled by anything about this house—you’ve studied it so thoroughly,” she added over her shoulder as she ran out of the room.
“Now what do you know about that!” exclaimed Peggy with a quizzical expression on her face. “I fail to see the joke, don’t you?”
“Well—I believe—I’m beginning to see it,” replied Jo Ann slowly. “That was only someone knocking on the door downstairs, but I can’t see why Florence had to answer it. I don’t believe Dr. Blackwell would expect her to go down there alone—in the middle of the night—to answer the door.”
“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t,” agreed Peggy, “but why did she rush off like that, then?”
A few moments later Florence burst into the room, still smiling. “Well, I’ve stopped the revolution,” she announced, her eyes twinkling. “I assure you everything is quiet and peaceful, and you won’t be disturbed again. Go back to sleep. You’re perfectly safe now.”
“I know I sounded silly, but I was half asleep, and it startled me,” Jo Ann explained apologetically. “I know now it was someone knocking on the door, but why did you have to answer it?”
“I suppose it did look funny, the way I rushed out there alone,” Florence replied, “but I knew it was only someone coming for Daddy. I always go downstairs with him to bolt the door after he leaves.”
“To bolt the door!” repeated Peggy. “Can’t he use a key? I never heard of the whole family having to get up in the middle of the night to escort someone to the door.”
“Well, I’d much rather bolt the door after him,” Florence laughed, “than go along to carry the key for him.”
“How ridiculous!” Peggy retorted. “People usually carry their own keys, don’t they?”
“Yes, that’s true—but this is an unusual house, you must remember. You’ve never seen this key, have you?”
Peggy and Jo Ann shook their heads.
“Well, it’s solid brass, about that long”—she held up her hands eight inches apart—“and weighs a pound or more. In olden days they took themozoalong just to carry the key—when it was necessary to carry it. We’ve found that the key makes a better parlor ornament than anything else.”
“What’s a bozo—ormozo, or whatever you call it?” asked Peggy.
“That’s what they call a manservant,” explained Florence.
Peggy then turned to Jo Ann and remarked teasingly, “The key—weren’t you hunting for a mysterious key? There you are! Your wish has been granted.”
Disregarding Peggy’s remarks, Jo Ann asked eagerly, “Florence, where’s that key? I want to see it.”
“It’ll keep till morning,” Florence returned, snuggling into bed. “Come on—it’s ’most four o’clock, but we can get a nice little nap before time to get up.”
“Tell me where the key is, and I’ll get it,” persisted Jo Ann. “I couldn’t go to sleep for thinking about it—not that it’ll help me though, as Peggy suggested. That’s not the kind of key I’m looking for.”
“I don’t know exactly where it is,” replied Florence. “I’ll have to hunt for it, but if you’re that anxious to see it, we’ll get it.”
With flashlights blinking, the three pajama-clad figures crept across the hall and into the parlor, a room that was seldom used. After searching among several other old relics in a cabinet, Florence finally unearthed the huge key, tarnished and black from disuse.
“Here you are,” she said, handing it to Jo Ann. “You can look at it the rest of the night if you want to, but I’m going to bed. Come on, put it under your pillow or anywhere you wish.”
She led the way back to their room, and she and Peggy quickly crawled into bed. But Jo Ann sat under the light, turning the key over and over in her hand, musing. “What a key! Who ever heard of a key so large you needed a servant to carry it—but how typical of the time when this house was built. Everything—the walls, the windows, the doors—practically impenetrable. What a place of refuge in times of war and strife!”
“Turn out that light,” growled Peggy, startling Jo Ann out of her reverie. “Can’t you dream as well in the dark? We want to go to sleep, if you don’t.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Jo Ann answered, and, turning out the light, crawled into bed.
It seemed to Jo Ann that she had scarcely closed her eyes before there was a knock on the door, and she heard Florence talking to someone. “What is it this time?” she thought drowsily. “Such a night—just one thing after another.”
She turned over and dozed off again, but again a voice broke into her slumbers: “Jo, come on.”
“Why couldn’t they leave her alone—or was she dreaming?”
“It’s time to get up, Jo,” the voice urged. “Hurry! Juana’s not coming today, and we’ve got to do the cooking.”
Forcing one eye open, she saw the room filled with sunlight, and Florence and Peggy already almost dressed.
“O-oh, I’m so sleepy!” she mumbled between yawns. “I’ll get up in a minute.”
“That’s what you get for keeping us awake half the night,” scolded Peggy. “Now hurry up. We’ve got to get breakfast.”
“What d’you say?” she asked lazily.
“Come on, Florence, let’s pull her out,” put in Peggy. “We’ll get even with her for last night.”
Without another word Peggy made a grab for Jo Ann’s feet. But Jo Ann was wide awake in an instant. Like a flash she reached out, and catching Peggy around the neck, pulled her down on the bed beside her. Laughing and shrieking, the tussle continued while Florence dropped in a chair, convulsed with laughter. Over and over the two rolled, first this way, then that, till they finally landed on the floor, panting for breath.
“Well—you’re awake—now!” gasped Peggy.
“Did I dream it or did I hear you say something about Juana not coming today?” Jo Ann asked when she could get her breath.
“I’m sorry to inform you that you were not dreaming,” replied Florence. “No, she’s not coming, and if we eat today we’ll have to cook. Her husband’s sister’s child died, and she went over there till after the funeral. Juana’s so good I hate to say anything when she misses a day now and then. The Mexicans have such large families, someone is always dying. That’s why black is almost a uniform with the peon women. They’re always in mourning for someone.”
“Gracious! I’d hate to wear black all the time,” shuddered Peggy.
“Well, this won’t get breakfast or clean up the house,” said Jo Ann, dressing rapidly. “Come on, let’s get busy. This is just the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”
“Why the sudden ambition?” inquired Peggy quizzically. “It’s strange I have no recollection of your having demonstrated your talent for housework before.”
“Oh, I don’t mind cooking,” returned Jo Ann. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to get in that kitchen without Juana there so I could poke around in all the corners to my heart’s content.”
“Oh, I see!” laughed Peggy. “While we work, you search out the mysteries of——”
“Girls! Girls! Whatever shall I do with you?” put in Florence, laughing. “Which would you rather do?” she added as the trio trooped gaily to the kitchen. “Go to market or have breakfast first? Since Daddy’s already had his breakfast, it makes no difference which we do.”
“It’s all the same to me,” replied Peggy. “I’m not the least bit hungry, and I’d rather enjoy the walk.”
“Someone has to stay here to look after the house and answer the door,” Florence went on. “Since you girls can’t very well do the marketing, I’ll go with you, and we’ll leave Felipe here. This will be one morning you won’t have to be bothered with him, Jo.”
“Wait a minute,” cut in Jo Ann. “I have a better plan than that. Let’s have breakfast right now; then, while you and Felipe go to market, Peg and I’ll stay here and wash the dishes.”
“I can’t let you do that!” exclaimed Florence in dismay. “And, anyway, what’d you do if someone came to see Dad?”
“Oh, I’d sayen un momento[in a minute] and sit them down in the office till you got back,” Jo Ann answered lightly. “You see, what I really want is to get rid of the watchdog for a little while, and that seems to be the only way of doing it.”
“Well—under—one condition,” said Florence hesitantly. “If you’ll promise not to do anything daring or dangerous in any way, then I’ll let you stay here.”
“I’ll do my best to keep her straight,” promised Peggy.
“You do have a time with me, don’t you?” laughed Jo Ann. “I’ll promise to be good this time.”
As soon as breakfast was over, Florence started off to market, with the faithful Felipe trailing along behind. At last Peggy and Jo Ann had the house to themselves. They stacked and carried the dishes to the kitchen, and then Jo Ann quickly placed her stack on the table and walked to the door. From there she started across the room in front of the huge fireplace.
“One—two—three,” she counted, pacing the distance to the wall across the room, “four—five.” Then, turning, she measured the distance back again.
“I guess that’s right,” she mumbled to herself.
“What in the world are you doing now?” asked Peggy disgustedly from across the room. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Don’t bother me. Seventeen—eighteen——”
“Josephine Annette Cutrer, are you going to help with these dishes?” insisted Peggy.
There was no response from Jo Ann. By that time she had gone out the door and was pacing the length of the hall.
“Peg! Oh, Peg! Come here quick!” she called excitedly in another moment. “I knew I was on the right track. Look!” Again she paced the length of the hall from the door, back. “You see,” she explained, “there’s about eight feet difference in the distance on this side of the wall and that in the kitchen.”
“What do you mean?” asked Peggy in surprise. “It’s bound to be the same.”
“But it isn’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Now, if the wall measures less on this side, wouldn’t you figure there was some reason for it?”
“Why—yes, I suppose so.”
“Well, then! What would you call a space eight feet deep—and with a window in it?”
Peggy stared, wide-eyed. “Why, Jo! You mean—there’s a room back there?”
“Exactly! It couldn’t be anything else,” Jo Ann replied, taking the shade off the light. “Here, hold this light at this angle so it’ll shine on the middle of this wall.”
“Is that right?” asked Peggy, trying to do as she was told.
“No, shine it over a little to your left.” The next moment Jo Ann exclaimed in disgust, “Oh, gee! It’s so dark in this corner, even that doesn’t do much good. Wish I had a light ’way back here.”
“Wait a minute. I’ll get my flashlight,” called Peggy, running quickly to her room.
“Now, is that better?” she asked a moment later.
“Yes, but—here, hand me the flashlight.” Jo Ann reached over for the flashlight. “Now you hold the other one. Two lights ought to be better than one,” she added, gazing intently at the wall from first one angle then another. “Peg, am I seeing things, or is there a shadow across the wall?” she asked a few minutes later, holding the light close.
Peggy shook her head. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Put that light down and come here! Now, look—right here!” Jo Ann pointed, running her hand across the wall. “And over here! I can feel a sort of dent in the wall. Don’t you see it?”
“Oh—I—believe—I do,” Peggy answered slowly, then, “Yes, I do see it now. I’m sure I do!”
“There used to be a narrow door right here!” cried Jo Ann excitedly. “I knew it! I knew it! I told you the key to the mystery lay behind that window.” Grabbing Peggy, she danced her hilariously around the hall.
Their dance came suddenly to an end when Peggy exclaimed, “Jo, stop! Hush! There’s someone coming up the stairs.”
“Oh, do you suppose it’s Florence? We haven’t washed a dish.”
“And whose fault is it, I wonder?” Peggy retorted teasingly.
In a few more moments a decrepit, half-blind old man, led by a small, wizened-faced boy, appeared at the head of the stairs.
Jo Ann gave a long sigh. “They must be patients for Dr. Blackwell. I’ll have my troubles now trying to talk to them.”
“Can’t you ask them what they want?”
“I’ll try. Let’s see. Ah—que queres[what do you want]?” she finally managed in Spanish.
The old man mumbled a reply, but Jo Ann could not understand a single word.
“Do you wantel doctor?” she asked again. Once more the old man mumbled an unintelligible reply.
Jo Ann turned to Peggy. “I can’t make out a thing he says. What’d we better do? Take them into the office and let them wait? Florence always tries to persuade the patients to wait for her father.”
“I don’t know what to say,” replied Peggy doubtfully. “I’ve never seen such pitiful-looking specimens of humanity in my life. They look like charity cases to me, but maybe you’d better try to hold them.”
“Well, I’ll try—if I can make them understand.”
With renewed efforts Jo Ann struggled to make herself understood, using a mixture of Spanish and English and gesturing vigorously with her hands.
Not the slightest change came over the expressionless faces of the man and boy.
In despair Jo Ann turned again to Peggy. “They’re hopeless,” she declared. “I give up. Let’s just leave them standing here.”
As soon as she had stopped talking, the boy took the old man by the hand and led him down the stairs and into the street.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold them,” sighed Jo Ann, dropping down on the steps to rest after her strenuous efforts.
“Come on,” urged Peggy. “Let’s finish the dishes before Florence gets back.”
“All right. We’ll have to hurry.”
Returning to the kitchen, they attacked the dishes energetically, though talking over the discovery of the hidden room all the time.
“While you put things away,” offered Jo Ann, “I’ll sweep, and everything’ll be straight in a jiffy.”
When they had almost finished, Florence appeared in the doorway.
“How smart you’ve been!” she praised, glancing around the kitchen approvingly. “You didn’t have time to get into mischief, did you?”
“We’ve had time to make a wonderful discovery!” exclaimed Jo Ann quickly. “Guess what we’ve found!”
“What—the family skeleton?”
Ignoring Florence’s sarcastic remark, Jo Ann went on rapidly, “We’ve found the door to a mysterious room at the end of the hall!”
“A door! A room!” Florence gasped. “What’re you talking about?”
With her words tumbling over each other in her excitement, Jo Ann began explaining the details of their discovery.
“It seems almost unbelievable that there’s a hidden room in this house,” Florence exclaimed, wide-eyed as she wheeled about to examine the shadow of the doorway by the flashlight.
“There’s a door there, all right—I can see it,” she agreed finally. “But what—why do you imagine anyone sealed it up?”
Peggy shook her head dubiously and replied, “I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“I’m not sure about that either,” put in Jo Ann, “but I do know that the mysterious window opens into this hidden room.”
“I believe you’re right,” Peggy agreed quickly. “I believe it does.”
“I do, too,” added Florence. “But what do you suppose is inside this hidden room? Thatisa mystery!”
“I’ll be able to explain that before long,” declared Jo Ann. “I’m going to look through that window this very day.”
“Oh, Jo, do be careful,” warned Florence. “I’m afraid you’ll be——”
Before Florence could finish her sentence, Peggy broke in with, “If you go, Jo, I’m going up on the roof with you.”
“All right—that suits me. If things work out right, I’m going during the siesta hour. I slipped past the watchdog once—surely I can slip into the office without getting caught——” She stopped suddenly. “Mentioning the office reminds me that two patients came while you were gone, Florence. I did my best to hold them, but I didn’t succeed—I couldn’t make them understand a word. They looked stupid to me.” She went on to give a vivid description of their appearance.
Before she had finished, Florence began to smile.
“What’s the joke?” Jo Ann demanded.
“I’m glad you didn’t hold them—they weren’t patients at all,” Florence replied, still smiling. “That was just a poor old beggar who comes by every few days.”
Peggy burst into laughter. “That makes Jo’s efforts to hold them all the funnier. I wish you could have seen her—she talked with her hands as much as she did with her mouth.”
“She’s a true Mexican, then,” laughed Florence. “That’s the way they do. But this won’t get us anything to eat. We’re going to have your fried chicken today. How does that suit you, Peg?”
Peggy nodded approval. “Fine! Who says I don’t rate high in this household?”
“Don’t get so conceited,” teased Florence. “I just thought that’d be the easiest thing to fix.”
Joking and laughing over their work, the morning passed quickly.
As soon as lunch was over and the girls had gone to their room for the siesta hour, Jo Ann pulled a pair of knickers from her trunk and began putting them on. “It’ll be much easier to climb in these, and I won’t be nearly as conspicuous,” she remarked to the girls.
“Since I’m not going to do as much climbing as you are, I won’t bother about changing,” put in Peggy.
“Peep out the door, Florence,” Jo Ann ordered a moment later, “and see where Felipe is. If he’s awake, get him out of the way. We can’t wait any longer—we’ll have to hurry, or we can’t get through before the city wakes from its siesta.”
“W-ell,” she agreed hesitantly, walking over to the door. The next moment she called over her shoulder, “He’s awake. I’ll have to put him to work at something.” She disappeared into the hall.
“I’m so excited I can scarcely wait,” Jo Ann went on as she finished dressing. “Let’s see—I’ll need my flashlight. By the time I get in that narrow opening, there won’t be much space left for the light to filter through.”
“Have you the rope?” asked Peggy. “Do you suppose it’ll take you as long to fasten it as it did before? Gee, I hate to think of that sun!”
“You forget the parasol’s still up there. I’ve got everything I need. Are you ready?”
Just then Florence returned and announced that she had sent Felipe to sweep the kitchen.
Thus assured that Felipe was out of the way, the girls slipped quickly to the balcony.
Unfastening the string from the hinge where they had left it, the rope dropped within reach. With the flashlight fastened to the back of her belt, Jo Ann climbed, hand over hand, up to the roof.
As soon as she had helped Peggy over the ledge and slipped the rope off the iron bar, the two girls hurried on across the roof. They did not want to stay in the sun longer than necessary or climb back to the balcony before a crowd of spectators.
“Isn’t this view gorgeous!” exclaimed Peggy, running first to one side of the building and then to the other, to gaze down on the city lying quietly below.
“Yes,” nodded Jo Ann, busily making the necessary preparations for her hazardous adventure. “Bring me the parasol a minute, will you?”
“All right, but what in the world are you going to do with a parasol?”
“Wait a minute and you’ll see. I’ve got to fasten this rope to the wall by poking it through this little hole—left here for a drain I suppose. You’ll notice the roof slopes down this way a little.”
“Yes, I see, but how’ll that fasten it?”
“Well, I’ll tie this stick”—Jo Ann held up a piece of wood—“to the end of the rope, then push it through the hole.” Suiting her words to action, she began poking it with the parasol. “Climb up on the wall and tell me when it comes through, will you?”
“All right,” said Peggy, scrambling up on the wall. “It’s through!” she called a moment later.
“Now—you see the stick hangs across the opening, making sort of an anchor for the rope,” Jo Ann explained. “Isn’t it lucky for me that hole was in the right place? I’d surely hate to drive another iron bar in this wall. It’s terrible!”