[Jo Ann could see that the man and Carlitos were still crouched around the fire.]

THE MYSTERY OF
CARLITOS

HELEN RANDOLPH

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Akron, Ohio New York

Mexican Mystery Series
by Helen Randolph

[The Secret of Casa Grande]
[The Mystery of Carlitos]
[Crossed Trails in Mexico]

Copyright, MCMXXXVI
The Saalfield Publishing Company
Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE [I. The Mysterious Blue-Eyed Boy] 7 [II. Neighbors in the Cave] 19 [III. An Unwelcome Visitor] 33 [IV. The Cave Family Disappears] 44 [V. Footprints] 55 [VI. A Mysterious Light] 69 [VII. The Charcoal Maker] 86 [VIII. Friends at Last] 100 [IX. “I’m Going to Solve the Mystery”] 111 [X. A Soiled Yellowed Envelope] 122 [XI. The Bear Returns] 135 [XII. Jo Ann’s Trophy] 149 [XIII. José’s Strange Story] 161 [XIV. The Piñata] 171 [XV. “Carlitos—Gone!”] 181 [XVI. On a Dangerous Trail] 196 [XVII. A Startling Cry] 206 [XVIII. Prisoners] 218 [XIX. A Daring Plan] 229 [XX. The New Hope Mine] 239

CHAPTER I
THE MYSTERIOUS BLUE-EYED BOY

Jo Ann jerked the crude, hand-made chair off the oxcart and set it down in the shade of the thatched roof of the house.

“Your throne’s ready, Your Majesty,” she called over gaily to the pale, worn-looking Mrs. Blackwell whose daughter Florence was helping her off the burro.

“Whoever heard of a throne looking like that?” laughed the slender, hazel-eyed girl beside Jo Ann. “Wait a minute.” She spread a bright rainbow-hued Mexican blanket over the chair. “Now that looks more like a throne.”

Jo Ann nodded her dark curly bob. “You’re right, Peg—as usual.” She turned to Mrs. Blackwell. “I know you’re dead tired. That long automobile trip over the rough roads was bad enough, but the ride up the mountain on that poky donkey was worse yet.”

“Poky’s the word,” put in Florence, her blue eyes twinkling. “That burro, or donkey as you call it, is all Mexican—slow but sure.”

Just as she had finished speaking, the burro flapped his ears, threw back his head, and brayed such a knowing “heehaw” that the girls laughed merrily and even Mrs. Blackwell smiled broadly.

As Mrs. Blackwell dropped down in the chair, Jo Ann remarked to her, “No queen ever had a more beautiful kingdom to look upon from her throne than you have.”

“It’s marvelous!” exclaimed Peggy as all four gazed over the far-flung view stretching out before them: rugged, cloud-tipped mountain peaks, the deep valley covered with tropical growth, and a gleaming, silver waterfall to their right.

“Gracious!” broke in Florence finally. “We’ll never get the house straightened at this rate. And will you look at that driver! I believe he’s sound asleep. He hasn’t taken a single thing off the cart yet.”

As Jo Ann reluctantly turned away, she called over to Peggy, “We’ll have three or four weeks to enjoy all this beauty—let’s get busy now and help Florence straighten up the house. You just sit here, Mrs. Blackwell, and draw in deep breaths of this invigorating air,” she added. “Dr. Blackwell said you weren’t to turn your hand to do a thing.”

“You girls wait on me as if I were a complete invalid. Although I am tired now, I know I’m going to regain my strength rapidly up here.”

While Florence gave orders in Spanish to the driver and the boy in charge of the burros, Jo Ann and Peggy went inside the small, one-room house which was built from stone cut from the mountain side.

While they were waiting for the equipment to be brought in, the girls looked about the room curiously.

“Isn’t this the queerest little house!” Peggy exclaimed. “Not a single window in it. It’s built exactly like the little adobe huts the peons live in.”

“Florence said they bought the place from a Mexican—anyone’d know that at a glance.” Jo Ann walked over across the room to the back door and looked outside. “This must be that funny little kitchen Florence told us about,” she said, gesturing to a small stone building about fifteen feet beyond.

Just then the driver sauntered in and piled some cots and bedding in the center of the cement floor.

Jo Ann wheeled about. “Come on, Peg, let’s sweep out the house and make up the cots. We can do that much, at least.”

By the time they had the cots made up, the Mexicans had finished unloading and were starting off leisurely down the trail behind the oxcart and burros.

“Let’s stop working now and eat our lunch,” called Florence from the kitchen door. “It’s siesta time right now, and it’ll do all of us good to take a nap.”

Peggy grinned over at Florence. “Maybe Jo Ann’ll take a siesta up here. Remember the trouble she got into up on the roof in town during a siesta hour?”

“Don’t worry about me this time. There’s no mysterious window in this house for me to investigate, as there was there.”

“I bet we won’t be here three days before you’ll find some mystery to solve, Sherlock,” teased Peggy.

“Well, Sherlock’s too hungry to look for mysteries now. Let’s eat.”

“That’s what I say,” agreed Florence. “You girls unpack the eats while I go to the spring for some cool water.”

After they had eaten their lunch and had their siestas, the girls worked another hour putting down rugs, arranging gay pillows and blankets on the cots, and making a dressing table out of a packing box.

“Before we start straightening out things in the kitchen, I believe I’d better go down to the goat ranch,” Florence remarked. “I want to see if I can make arrangements to get milk there every day.”

“You mean—goat’s milk?” Peggy asked in dismay, stopping in the middle of slipping a gay cretonne cover on a pillow.

Florence’s eyes twinkled roguishly. “Well, what’s the matter with goat’s milk? That’s what the Mexicans use. When in Mexico do as the Mexicans do.” Seeing the sick-looking expression on both Peggy’s and Jo Ann’s faces, she hastened to explain: “I was just teasing. They raise the goats for market. The natives are as fond of goat’s meat as they are of the milk. They had a cow at this ranch when we were here last year, and——”

“Let’s hope they still have that cow,” put in Peggy quickly.

“So say I,” added Jo Ann emphatically.

Florence picked up the bucket from the rough board table. “Do either of you girls want to go with me?”

“Jo, I know you’re just dying to get out of doors and tramp a bit,” Peggy remarked. “You go with Florence, and I’ll stay here with Mrs. Blackwell.”

“Fine! I’d love it.”

“We won’t be gone long,” Florence told her mother as she and Jo Ann started out the door.

A few minutes later they disappeared down a winding trail back of the house. About halfway down the trail Jo Ann halted a moment to enjoy the beautiful scenery. “This is the life for me!” she exclaimed. “I had a good time in the city, but give me the outdoors. I can hardly wait to begin exploring these mountains.”

About ten minutes later they came in sight of a little pink adobe hut perched on a narrow ledge jutting out from the steep rocky cliff. It looked to Jo Ann as if the hut might topple off any minute and fall into the valley below.

“That’s the goat ranch,” explained Florence.

“The goat ranch! All I see is a hut and a stone wall. Why’d they build a house way up there instead of in that fertile valley?”

“I suppose it’s because that steep cliff back of the hut saved them from so much work in making an enclosure for their goats.”

“I don’t see any goats. Where are they?”

“The little goat herder takes them out every morning to graze on the scrubby mesquite that grows on the mountain side. Goats love to climb, you know. I’ve even seen one on top of an adobe hut.”

The girls followed the trail across a narrow ravine and up to the house.

Just then several dogs began barking, and a black-eyed, olive-skinned Mexican woman and two scantily dressed, barefooted children appeared in the doorway.

The next moment the woman’s face lit at sight of Florence. “Florencita!” she cried, then went on in a rapid flow of Spanish to ask her numerous questions about her family.

As soon as Florence had answered these questions she inquired if they still owned the cow.

The woman nodded assent and urged her and Jo Ann to sit down and rest till Pablito brought the cow and she could milk.

Florence shook her head and handing her the bucket asked if it would be possible for her to send the milk up later by one of the children.

“Sí, Florencita. Muy bien,” she agreed, smiling.

As the girls turned to go, the woman reached down and picked a fragrant, waxy-white flower from the jasmine growing in a pot by the door. “For your mama,” she explained, handing it to Florence.

With a word of thanks and an “Adios” to her and the children, the girls started back down the trail.

“Let’s go home the long way through the valley,” suggested Florence when they reached the ravine. “There’s a cave down this way that I want to show you.”

“Fine! The longer the way, the better. That cave sounds interesting, too.”

Slipping and sliding down the rocky mountain side, they soon reached the broad valley; then they followed the path around the base of the cliff, stopping now and then to gather ferns and flowers.

When they came to a sparkling, crystal-clear spring bubbling out from under the rocks, Jo Ann dropped to her knees and drank thirstily of the icy cold water.

While Florence was drinking, Jo Ann heard a snapping of twigs near by. She wheeled about and, peering through the bushes, saw two small boys gathering wood. One of them was bent over by the weight of a large bundle of the wood, held in place on his back by a rope passed across his forehead; the other was chopping sticks with a machete, a long heavy knife. At first glance Jo Ann thought they must be twins, as they were dressed alike in the loose white trousers and blouse worn by the peon.

A few minutes later the boys stepped back into the narrow trail, but on seeing the girls they quickly moved to one side to let them pass.

With a smile, Florence greeted the boys with the customary salutation, “buenos tardes.” Their little brown faces under their frayed straw sombreros grinned back at the girls as they returned the greeting; then they turned and went on down the trail.

As soon as they were out of sight Jo Ann exclaimed, “That’s the first blue-eyed Mexican I’ve seen! I didn’t know they ever had blue eyes.”

“They don’t! What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you notice that one of those boys had dark-blue eyes?”

“No.”

“Well, he did.”

“They were both dressed alike, and dirty and ragged. All I noticed was how frail-looking the one was who had the bundle of wood on his back. I couldn’t help wondering why the other boy, who looked stronger, didn’t take part of the load.”

“That’s the one with the blue eyes. Do they belong to the family at the goat ranch?”

“No, I’ve never seen them before. You must be mistaken about the boy’s having blue eyes.”

Jo Ann shook her head vigorously. “I’m positive his eyes were blue—his features were finer too, but his face was so dirty I couldn’t tell much about them.”

Florence smiled. “You’ve a fine imagination, Jo—trying to find another mystery already.”

“I didn’t try to find this mystery. It bumped right into me. If that boy lives around here, I’m going to find out more about him.”

At Jo Ann’s emphatic words, Florence laughed merrily. “All right, but don’t start now. If we’re going to stop at the cave, we’ll have to hurry.”

CHAPTER II
NEIGHBORS IN THE CAVE

The two girls hurried along the trail, and a few minutes later Florence pointed to a dark, shadowy place about fifty feet up the side of the cliff. “There’s the cave I was telling you about.”

“All I can see through the bushes is a black hole under some rocks. Can we climb up there? I’d like to explore it.”

“Yes, there’s a path leading up to it. It isn’t very large and won’t take you long to look it over.”

After rounding a curve in the trail, Florence led the way up the winding path toward the cave.

“That’s strange!” she exclaimed a moment later. “There’s a burro tied right outside the entrance. Someone must be in there.”

“And I smell smoke from a campfire, don’t you?” asked Jo Ann in a low voice as she moved over closer to Florence. “Do you suppose we’d better go on?”

“Yes, I think it’ll be all right. If we have neighbors, I want to see what sort of people they are.”

Just then they saw, silhouetted against the dark cave entrance, the bent form of an old woman leaning on a stick. On coming closer the girls were able to make out the features of a brown, wrinkled face, which was almost hidden by the folds of the black shawl-like rebosa about her head and shoulders.

“Buenos tardes,” greeted Florence, then went on to explain in Spanish that they had come up to see the cave, not knowing that it was occupied.

While Florence was talking to the old woman, Jo Ann was peering into the dark opening beyond. By the light of the fire in the middle of the floor she could see a woman kneeling by a stone metate grinding corn for tortillas, and near by, lying on a straw mat on the floor, was a tiny naked baby.

Just then several little stair-step children ran to peer up at the visitors from behind their grandmother. Jo Ann took some of the flowers from her bouquet and offered one to each of them. With smiles spreading over their thin, grimy faces, they reached out timidly for the flowers, then drew back behind their grandmother again.

“What is your name?” Jo Ann asked the largest of the children in her best Spanish, but either the child could not understand or else she was too timid to reply.

Hearing a slight noise behind her, Jo Ann turned in time to see the two boys she had noticed gathering wood. The one with the heavy burden on his back passed on into the cave without looking around, but the other hesitated and stared up at her curiously before disappearing into the dim interior. In that short interval Jo Ann had an opportunity to see that his eyes were unmistakably a deep blue; moreover, she noticed that, although his skin was brown, it was not as dark as the other boy’s and the little girls’.

While she was pondering over this difference, Florence reached over and touched her on the arm. “Come on, Jo, we’d better go now. We’ll come down again sometime.”

Both girls waved good-by to the children, then started off down the trail. “Did you notice those boys as they came in?” Jo Ann asked. “One of them has blue eyes, just as I said.”

“I was so busy talking to the grandmother that I didn’t see them till they had passed on into the shadows. Evidently they belong to this family.”

“Well, that blue-eyed one certainly doesn’t look as if he belongs to them. There’s something strange about him. Do you suppose they live in that cave? They didn’t have a stick of furniture—not even a bed or table or chair or anything.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter to the peons. They never sleep on a bed, and they eat off the floor. But those people did look awfully poor. I don’t believe they had a thing for supper but those tortillas the woman was making.”

“Let’s come down here tomorrow and bring them something. Those children looked half starved to me.”

“We’ll do that very thing, but if we’re going to eat tonight, we’d better be getting back to camp. Mother and Peg’ll wonder what’s happened to us.”

“And we haven’t finished straightening up the kitchen, either,” Jo Ann sighed. “How about cooking supper in that outdoor fireplace? It’s too gorgeous up here to stay in the house any more than absolutely necessary.”

“All right. That’s what I’d planned to do anyway.”

“Isn’t this the road we came up this morning?” Jo Ann asked a moment later, as they came to a cart road winding back and forth up the steep mountain side.

“Yes, we’re almost home. If it weren’t for the trees, we could see the house from here. There’s a short cut straight up the mountain.” She pointed to a narrow path between the trees and rocks. “Since you’re so fond of climbing, we’ll take that and be back at the house before you know it.”

In a short time they arrived at the house, puffing and panting from the exertion of their steep climb.

“Did you—think we—were never—coming?” asked Florence, dropping down beside her mother, who was lying on a cot out in front of the house; then, without waiting for an answer, she asked, “Have they brought the milk yet?”

Her mother nodded. “Just a few minutes ago. Did you and Jo Ann have a nice walk?”

“Yes, indeed! It seemed so good to be tramping over the mountains again.” Florence smiled. “I had to recount the family history from A to Z to the woman at the goat ranch, and she said it gave her much sorrow to learn of your illness. She and all the children’ll probably be up to see you tomorrow. Here’s a jasmine she sent you—we picked the fern down by a spring.” She sniffed the fragrant perfume a moment, then handed the dainty spray to her mother.

“And while we were at the spring,” put in Jo Ann, “we saw two little Mexican boys gathering wood; and I’m sure one of them had blue eyes.”

“Yes, Jo thinks she’s on the trail of another mystery,” laughed Florence.

“Oh dear,” sighed Peggy with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. “I told you we wouldn’t be here three days before she’d find a mystery, and here it’s hardly been that many hours.”

“Then, when we were at the cave,” Jo Ann went on, unruffled by Peggy’s teasing, “the boys came in, and I got a good look at that one’s eyes, and they were blue—a deep, deep blue—bluer than yours, Florence.”

“Well, what’s your solution?” grinned Peggy. “Has your blue-eyed boy been kidnaped, or is he a prince in disguise?”

“I’ll tell you later. Give me a little time, and I’ll find out. Florence and I are going down to the cave tomorrow to carry some food to those children—there were several thin, dirty, half-starved little ones there. Come along, Peg, and if that boy is there, you can see for yourself that his eyes are blue. I hope he is—I want to prove to you and Florence that I’m not color blind.”

“I’m ’most as hungry as those children looked,” put in Florence. “Let’s get supper.”

Jo Ann sprang up. “I’m a swell fire-builder. I’ll build the fire this minute—in the outdoor fireplace.”

“No, you won’t. I’ve beat you to it,” laughed Peggy.

As they went through the house, Jo Ann noticed that a gay red-and-white checked cloth had been spread on the table and places set for four. “You have been busy, haven’t you?” she said motioning toward the table.

“Sure. Mrs. Blackwell told me what to do with things, and I’ve straightened up the kitchen and put some rice on to cook for supper.”

Just as they reached the kitchen door, Florence came up and slipped her arm around Peggy affectionately, “Peg, you’re a grand person to have around; Jo’s been dreading straightening this kitchen all the way home.” She smiled over at Jo Ann, then went on to the kitchen and took several articles out of a box near the door. “Here, Jo, if you’ll fry the bacon and scramble some eggs, I’ll make some real Mexican chocolate; then if you’ll open this jar of preserves, Peg, we’ll have supper ready in a jiffy.”

“Even that won’t be soon enough to suit me,” laughed Jo Ann. “That climb up the mountain and this invigorating air have made me hungry as a bear.”

In a very short time supper was ready, and as Jo Ann placed the platter of bacon and eggs on the table, she called over to Peggy, “Catch hold of the other end of this table and let’s carry it outside. That sunset’s just too gorgeous to miss, and then Mrs. Blackwell won’t have to walk so far, either.”

Carefully Peggy and Jo Ann carried the table out in front of the house and set it down near Mrs. Blackwell’s cot; then Florence brought a chair and placed it at the head of the table.

“The banquet is served, Your Majesty.” She turned to help her mother into the chair.

“No banquet hall was ever as beautiful as this.” Jo Ann waved her hand toward the deep purple valley, the gold-tipped mountain peaks, and the rainbow-hued canopy overhead. “And listen—the music of the little mountain folk singing their farewells to the sun!”

“You surely have a good, imagination, Jo,” commented Peggy, laughing. “It is perfectly grand, but all I can hear is the croaking of bullfrogs.”

“Your appreciation of the beauties of nature seems to be sadly lacking.” She smiled condescendingly at Peggy, then turned to Mrs. Blackwell. “I don’t wonder that the doctor at the sanitarium, and your husband, too, ordered you up here to recuperate after your long illness. You couldn’t help but get well here.”

Mrs. Blackwell nodded assent. “Yes, this is a wonderful place to rest. I really begin to feel stronger already—and with three such thoughtful girls to look after me I’m sure I shall be as well as ever in a few weeks.”

“I’m so glad you’re here with us and not ’way off there at that sanitarium,” said Florence, reaching over to squeeze her mother’s hand. “We’re going to take such good care of you that you’ll just have to get well.”

Tired out from the busy, strenuous day, they lingered long over their supper, watching the ever changing colors of the slow tropical sunset. Carmine melted into rose, amber, violet, finally fading away into a soft tender green. Deep purple shadows settled over the mountains as the colors faded, and a slender crescent of a moon peeped down at them from a star-flecked sky.

Suddenly the spell was broken as Florence jumped to her feet. “Gracious! I forgot all about fixing that box down at the spring to keep our milk and butter in. Does anyone know where my flashlight is?”

“Yes, I put it on the dressing table right beside your cot. I’ll get it.” Peggy jumped up and ran inside the house. A moment later she returned with the flashlight and handed it to Florence.

“I’ll go with you and fix the box if you’ll tell me what to do,” offered Jo Ann.

“First we’d better light some candles so we can see what we’re doing,” Florence said as the three of them went into the kitchen. She dived down into the box and brought out two tallow candles and handed them to Jo Ann. “When you get those lit, Peg and I’ll put the milk and butter in jars.”

“What’ll I do with them now I’ve got them lit, Florence—hold them?” grinned Jo Ann a moment later, holding a lighted candle in each hand.

“Stick them on these lids and put them on the table. Here’s the box I’d planned to use. We’ll put the things in it and then carry it down to the spring.”

“The spring! Do you mean that spring where we saw the two boys—my blue-eyed boy?” Jo Ann asked.

“Of course not, silly. I mean the spring back of the house where we get our drinking water. There’re springs all over these mountains.”

They placed the things in the box, then, with Florence leading the way with the flashlight, they carried it to the near-by spring.

After they had moved several stones aside, they placed the jars of milk and butter in the icy water, placed the package of bacon on top of the jars and then turned the box over all.

“Pile some stones around the box and put this big one on top, and then our refrigerator’ll be fixed,” Florence said.

As soon as they returned to the house and had washed the dishes, they began getting ready for bed.

“I didn’t realize how tired I was till now. I won’t need any rocking tonight, I’m sure,” Jo Ann said as she crawled under the blankets.

Her thoughts drifted back to the blue-eyed boy. Who was he, and why was he with those peons? There must be some mystery back of it all. Could it be possible that he had been kidnaped as Peggy had jokingly suggested? “I’m going down there early tomorrow morning and find out more about it,” she told herself before dropping off to sleep.

CHAPTER III
AN UNWELCOME VISITOR

When Jo Ann opened her eyes the next morning, the sun was already shining through the open doorway. She lay still a moment and tried to think why she had wanted to get up early. What had she planned to do? Then it all came back to her. She was going down to the cave to find out more about the blue-eyed boy.

She threw back the covers and sprang up quickly, but the next moment she dropped back with a stifled groan.

“What’s the matter, Jo?” whispered Peggy. “You’re not stiff or sore, are you?”

“Oh no—of course not! I just groaned for the fun of it.”

“That’s the reason I didn’t want to go with you girls down to the goat ranch yesterday. I knew I wouldn’t be able to move today if I did. I’m going to take my climbing in smaller doses, so it won’t be so painful.”

Just then they heard a groan from the other end of the room, and both girls raised up on their elbows to look over at Florence.

“Are you sore too?” Jo Ann called out loud when she saw that Mrs. Blackwell was also awake now.

“I’ll say I am! It’s agony to move. We’ll have to climb some more today to get limbered up.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do just as soon as breakfast’s over. You remember we planned to take some food to those children down at the cave. I want to show you and Peggy my blue-eyed boy, too.”

Peggy laughed. “I surely hope you get to satisfy your curiosity about him—we won’t have a minute’s peace till you do.”

“Well, if we’re going down there this morning, we’d better roll out.” Florence screwed up her face and began slowly crawling out of bed.

Peggy smiled at the ridiculous contortions Jo Ann and Florence went through as they got up and began dressing.

Finally Jo Ann picked up a shoe and pitched it across at her. “You will laugh at me, will you?” she said good-naturedly. “Roll out yourself, or I’ll pour some cold water in your face.”

Jo Ann finished dressing first, and as she went out the door she called back, “I’ll make the fire while you girls finish dressing; then it won’t take us long to get breakfast.”

A few minutes later she was joined by Peggy and Florence, and all three girls set to work getting the breakfast started.

“I’ll set the table,” offered Peggy.

“And I’ll get the things from our refrigerator at the spring,” added Jo Ann, and started off stiff-legged down the path. “The walk’ll help to limber me up.”

“Jo ought to have a prize for her graceful walk,” smiled Peggy as she started into the house to set the table, while Florence went for some wood to replenish the fire.

A few minutes later Jo Ann came running back empty-handed, her sore muscles forgotten. “Our food’s gone—everything’s gone!” she called excitedly to Florence.

The wood dropped from Florence’s hands and sent up a shower of sparks as it fell into the fire. “Gone!” she gasped. “Are you sure you looked in the right place?”

“Sure. The box’s turned over, and there’s nothing under it.”

By this time Peggy, hearing the excitement, rushed out of the house, and all three girls raced back to the spring, then stood staring at the overturned box.

“What do you think happened?” asked Jo Ann. “Do you suppose someone stole the things and left the box there so it’d look as if a dog had done it?”

“I hardly think so,” replied Florence thoughtfully. “There’s no one up here who’d——” She stopped abruptly.

“Could it have been those people down at the cave who——” began Jo Ann; then the next moment she answered her own question: “No, I know they didn’t do it. They’re poor, but I don’t believe they’d steal.”

Peggy looked over at Jo Ann. “How do you know? You can’t prove it.”

Dropping to her knees beside the spring Jo Ann began examining the moss-covered stones. “The moss is scraped off this rock where something heavy stepped on it, but then we could’ve done that last night when we put the things in here.”

Florence turned and started back toward the house. “It won’t do any good to stand here talking about it. Come on, we’ll find something else to cook in place of the bacon for breakfast. It’s a good thing we brought some canned milk along for an emergency, but we’ll have to do without butter for several days, till I can get some sent out from the city.”

Jo Ann ran to catch up with Peggy and Florence. “Why can’t you get some butter from the people down at the goat ranch?” she asked.

Florence laughed. “Why, they probably wouldn’t even know what I was talking about.”

“Don’t they use butter?”

“No, the peons never use it.”

“Well, then, let’s get extra milk and make it ourselves.”

“How? We haven’t a churn.”

“I’ve seen my mother make butter by stirring the cream in a bowl or jar,” Jo Ann explained.

Just then they reached the house, and all three ran on inside and began telling Mrs. Blackwell of their loss.

“Mrs. Blackwell, what is your opinion about the mysterious visitor—was he man or beast?” asked Jo Ann finally.

“I couldn’t say, of course, but it seems to me an animal would hardly carry off the glass jars of milk and butter.”

Jo Ann stared at Mrs. Blackwell a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, then turned and went on outside.

Peggy glanced over at Florence. “Everything seems to point to those people as the guilty parties, doesn’t it? Jo hates to admit it, though.”

“Oh well, it wasn’t much, and anyway, we can’t prove that they are the guilty ones. Let’s forget about it and see what we can find for breakfast.” She got up and went out in the kitchen with Jo Ann.

A few minutes later Peggy joined them, and before long they had the emergency breakfast ready: coffee, dry cereal with canned milk, batter cakes with brown sugar syrup, and oranges.

“This isn’t half bad, if you ask me,” bragged Peggy as they sat down to the table.

Jo Ann grinned. “Just see who fixed it! Why, we’re the best cooks for miles around.”

“That isn’t saying much, is it?” smiled Florence, then all four laughed merrily as they caught Florence’s hidden meaning.

As soon as the breakfast things were cleared away and the house straightened up, Jo Ann asked, “Florence, do you and Peg still want to go down to the cave with me?”

“Why, of course. Come on, let’s see what we can find to carry to those children.”

The three girls hastened to the kitchen, and Florence began searching through the provision box for something to take to the children at the cave.

“Here’re some frijoles—that’s their principal food, and I know they’ll like them. We’ll put in some rice, and with these onions and garlic and this can of tomatoes they can make sopa de aroz—a kind of stew.” As Florence handed the things to Jo Ann and Peggy, they packed them in a split-cane basket.

She looked about the kitchen a moment, then reached over on the table and picked up a bag of oranges and handed it to Jo Ann. “Here’re some oranges. They ought to have some fruit, too. There’re only half a dozen in there, but that’ll be enough for each of the children to have one apiece. Let’s take these batter cakes we had left from breakfast. They’ll love them. They’ll think they’re some kind of a cake. We’ll put in this cone of brown sugar and tell the woman how to make syrup—but they’ll very likely eat the sugar as it is, thinking it’s candy.”

“I wonder if I couldn’t get milk from the goat ranch for them,” put in Jo Ann. “I’m going to see about it the next time we go down there.”

When they had finished, Jo Ann picked up the basket and followed Florence and Peggy out on the front porch, where Mrs. Blackwell was lying in a hammock stretched between two of the crude peeled posts supporting the thatched roof.

Florence leaned over to drop a kiss on her mother’s pale cheek. “Do you mind if we leave you alone for a little while? We’re going down to the cave to carry some food to those poor little children—we won’t be gone over half an hour.”

“I want to prove to Florence and Peg that I’m right about that blue-eyed boy,” added Jo Ann. “Maybe we’ll be able to find out something that’ll throw some light on the mystery of his blue eyes.”

Mrs. Blackwell smiled. “You girls run along—I’ll take a nap while you’re gone. I’m very glad you’re adopting those children. From what you’ve told me they must be badly in need of a helping hand. You see evidences of real poverty down here among the peons, and yet, as a general thing, they’re very happy.” As they started off down the trail she called, “Jo, I wish you luck in solving the mystery of your blue-eyed boy.”

Florence and Jo Ann found it very painful going down the steep path. Their leg muscles were still stiff and sore from their long tramp over the mountain side the day before. They were glad when they reached the foot of the cliff and started on a smooth wooded trail around its base.

At the first curve they stopped to gaze across the broad valley stretching out before them.

“Isn’t this glorious!” Jo Ann exclaimed. “We almost beat the sun up—down here, didn’t we?”

“Yes, it wasn’t much ahead of us,” agreed Peggy, “and doesn’t the air smell good?”

All three girls drew in deep breaths of the fragrant, woodsy odor of leaf mold and dew-kissed ferns.

A few minutes later they turned and hurried along the trail till they reached the narrow, unused path leading up to the cave. As they came in sight of it, Jo Ann stopped abruptly and stood staring before her.

“What’s the idea of stopping so suddenly?” Peggy demanded, as she bumped into Jo Ann.

“What’s the matter?” chimed in Florence, crowding up behind Peggy and trying unsuccessfully to look over their shoulders.

CHAPTER IV
THE CAVE FAMILY DISAPPEARS

Jo Ann pointed to the rugged arched opening before her. “Look! The donkey’s gone and there’s no sign of anyone. I don’t believe that family’s here now.”

Quickly all three girls walked on to the cave and stood staring inside. With the rays of the morning sun shining directly on the entrance, they could easily see into the farthest corners.

“There’s not a soul here!” finally ejaculated Jo Ann. “They’re gone—bag and baggage.”

“But it’s strange they’d leave so suddenly,” put in Florence. “They must’ve left before daylight.”

Peggy stepped inside the cave and kicked the pile of ashes with her foot. “There hasn’t been a fire here for hours—these ashes are as cold as charity.”

Jo Ann sighed as she set the basket down on the floor. “Those poor little children won’t get any of this food, after all. Isn’t that a shame?” She turned to Florence. “Do you suppose our coming here yesterday had anything to do with their leaving so suddenly?”

Florence shook her head. “No, I hardly think so. Now and then an Indian family spends the night here when they’re on their way farther up the mountain.”

“If they intended to leave so early, then why were those two boys gathering wood yesterday? They couldn’t have burned all of it in such a short time.”

Florence shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe I was right, after all, about the blue-eyed boy having been kidnaped,” put in Peggy.

Silently the three girls stared around the cave, each busy with her own thoughts.

A few minutes later Jo Ann reached down and picked up the basket. “Come on, let’s see if we can find which way they went. They couldn’t’ve got very far with the old grandmother and all those little children. Maybe we can overtake them and give them these things—then they’ll know we want to be friends.”

In the damp earth of the narrow path they could see distinctly the prints of bare feet and the small half-moons made by the donkey. They easily followed the trail till they came to the rocky cart road up which they had ridden the day before.

Here Jo Ann and Peggy dropped to their knees and began examining the tracks in the dust.

“Now which way do you suppose they went?” queried Jo Ann. “These tracks could have been made here yesterday by our donkeys and the peon driver.”

“The tracks seem to go in both directions, and they’re so indistinct it’d be impossible to follow a trail. You might as well give up, Jo.”

Florence smiled over at Jo Ann. “I believe the blue-eyed Mexican boy is one mystery you won’t be able to solve. You’ll have to use your detective ability in finding out what became of our milk and butter.” She hesitated a moment, then continued thoughtfully, “If those people followed this road up the mountain they’d pass within about fifty feet of our box at the spring.”

Peggy’s eyes widened. “Oh, do you suppose they really did get our things, then?”

Jo Ann jumped quickly to her feet. “Well, since they’re gone, I hope they did get them. Those little children need the milk and butter much more than we do—only I hate to think of their having stolen them.” She glanced down at the basket. “I wish we could have given them this food—they need it so badly. I wanted to see that boy again, too.”

“It won’t do any good to stand here in the sun talking about it,” Florence called over to Peggy and Jo Ann. “Come on. Let’s drop the whole business and go home—it’s almost time to start getting dinner, anyway.”

“Maybe Mrs. Blackwell can help us explain the mystery of their sudden departure,” Jo Ann remarked as she picked up the basket and started off behind Florence, while Peggy brought up the rear.

The three disappointed girls began slowly climbing in single file up the steep, narrow, winding path to the camp. Bending forward like saplings blown by the wind, they trudged silently up the trail, Jo Ann carrying the basket on first one arm, then the other.

When they were within a short distance of the top of the cliff Florence suddenly leaped backward, gasping, “Ugh! A snake!”

She bumped against Jo Ann with such force that the basket was knocked from her hands and rolled clattering down the mountain side. Unmindful of the basket, Florence kept pushing Jo Ann down the narrow trail.

The next moment Jo Ann stumbled and half fell against Peggy. Simultaneously a terrified shriek rent the air. Jo Ann wheeled about in time to see Peggy swaying dangerously over the outer edge of the cliff.

With eyes dilated with horror she saw her clutch wildly at a stunted tree growing out of the rocky ledge. The next instant Jo Ann reached out to grab Peggy. Her fingers touched her skirt, but before she could grasp it, the tree suddenly swayed outward over the cliff under Peggy’s weight.

Involuntarily Jo Ann shut her eyes tightly. “Oh, Peg’ll be killed!” she thought frantically.

The snapping of branches and the crashing of rocks down the mountain side came to her ears. Was Peg falling—falling——

She forced her eyelids open. Thank goodness! Peg was alive! Hanging to the tree. But oh, that awful abyss she was hanging over! She must help her out of that terrible plight if humanly possible. The tree might pull out by the roots at any moment.

“Hold on, Peg!” she cried. “We’ll help you!”

To Jo Ann’s great joy, Peggy began cautiously inching her way along the bent tree trunk.

“Just a little nearer and I can reach you,” encouraged Jo Ann. She called over to Florence. “Grab hold of me and steady me while I pull Peg.”

Years—ages passed, it seemed to Jo Ann, as she leaned forward with outstretched hands. The instant Peggy’s feet barely touched the rocky ledge she reached down and pulled her safely over the edge.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, Florence threw her arms about Peggy. “Oh, Peg, you might’ve been killed! And it was all my fault!”

“Well—I—wasn’t—killed.” Peggy took a step backward and leaned against the bank for support. “I—feel—shaky, though.”

“No wonder,” agreed Jo Ann. “I’m wobbly-kneed, too.”

“What—in the world—got into you girls—to push that way?”

“I saw a snake—a huge snake, right across our path, and I almost stepped on it,” answered Florence. She cupped her hands to make a circle. “He was that big around. He was so long I couldn’t see either his head or his tail.”

Peggy uttered a little gasp of surprise.

“You’re imagining things, Florence,” put in the practical Jo Ann. “You know perfectly well there’re no snakes that big—except boa constrictors in the jungles.”

“But he was huge. I wouldn’t have been so frightened by a smaller one. I’ve never seen one this large here before. He must be at least eight or ten feet long.”

A little twinkle entered Peggy’s eyes. “You girls ought to be even now. Jo insists a Mexican boy has blue eyes, and you insist you saw a huge boa constrictor right in sight of the house.”

“If that snake’s still there—and I imagine it is—I’ll prove to you that I’m right.”

Both Peggy and Jo Ann drew back slightly, and Peggy spoke up. “I, for one, am not going back up this trail with any kind of snake—big or little—waiting for me.”

“How’re we ever going to get to the house, then?” asked Jo Ann. “Will we have to go back down to the cart road and walk all the way around the mountain? Why, that’s miles, and in this hot sun!”

“I think I know a place where we can manage to climb up the cliff,” Florence told them. “How about it? Want to try it?”

“Sure,” replied Jo Ann. “’Most anything’d be better than walking miles out of the way when the house is only a few hundred yards from here.”

Florence led the way back down the trail a short distance, then began climbing the sheer surface of the cliff. By sticking their toes in the crevices of the rock and catching hold of the scraggly shrubs growing in the cracks, all three finally reached the top of the cliff.

After they had walked along the ledge for a short distance, Florence remarked, “I think we ought to be able to see the snake from here—if it’s still there.”

Cautiously she pulled the bushes aside and peered down on the path.

“Ugh! There he is—right in the same place!”

Peggy and Jo Ann leaned over to look.

“See that big black thing that looks like a log?”

Jo Ann gasped, “Gosh! What a snake!”

“That’s the biggest one I ever saw, except in a zoo,” declared Peggy, wide-eyed.

Florence pointed to the snake. “See those bumps in him. He’s probably had some squirrels or rabbits for his dinner and is lying there in the sun digesting them.”

“I didn’t dream there were such snakes around here,” Jo Ann added.

Before they started for the house, all three girls picked up stones and pitched them down at the snake. When one of the stones struck him, the huge reptile slowly disappeared over the edge of the path.

“It’s a good thing you saw it in time,” said Jo Ann. “I’d hate to have that terrible thing get after me in a place like that, where I couldn’t run.”

As they hastened across the mesa to the house, Florence remarked, “Maybe we’d better not tell Mother how big that snake was—she’ll worry every time we’re out of sight, if we do.”

“All right,” Jo Ann and Peggy agreed.

CHAPTER V
FOOTPRINTS

When the girls neared the house they were surprised to hear several people talking in Spanish. Perhaps the family from the cave have come up the mountain by the cart road, Jo Ann thought, and have stopped to talk to Mrs. Blackwell. But a moment later a shadow of disappointment crossed her face as she recognized the woman and children from the goat ranch.

“For a moment I thought it was those people from the cave with the blue-eyed boy,” Jo Ann said in a low voice to Peggy.

Peggy shook her auburn head. “Forget it, Jo. There’s no such luck.”

The girls exchanged greetings in Spanish with the visitors, then dropped down on the floor beside the two little girls. Jo Ann, in her poor Spanish, attempted to carry on a conversation with the children, while Peggy looked on, amused.

She was interrupted a few minutes later by Mrs. Blackwell. “Girls, María says a bear carried off one of their pigs last night. Isn’t that too bad? They had them in an enclosure against the cliff just back of the house here.”

Jo Ann jumped quickly to her feet. “I bet that’s what got our things at the spring. A bear! Why didn’t we think of that before?”

“We’ve never been bothered with one before,” put in Florence.

“María’s husband, Juan, said the continued drouth up in the mountains has caused the wild animals to come down into the valley in search of food,” Mrs. Blackwell continued. “The bear had evidently followed the river, because they found tracks up the ravine.”

María, who had been watching the expression on their faces intently, now began to shake her head and to talk rapidly in Spanish.

“She says that bears like much the pork,” translated Florence for the girls’ benefit. “She’s afraid he’ll come back for the rest of the pigs, and she doesn’t know what to do to keep him away.”

“What to do!” exclaimed Jo Ann. “Why, shoot him, of course.”

Mrs. Blackwell smiled. “I doubt if Juan has ever owned a gun. About the only weapon the peon ever uses is a stiletto, and it would not be an easy matter to kill a bear with a stiletto—or even with a machete.”

Peggy shivered as if she were cold. “I should say it wouldn’t. I’d hate to get that close to one, especially a real wild bear! It gives me the creeps to think about it.”

“I’ve got a grand idea,” burst out Jo Ann. “Why can’t we go on a bear hunt? We have a gun, and I can shoot.”

“I can shoot pretty good, too,” added Peggy. “Daddy taught me when we lived in the country. I killed a possum once when he got in our henhouse.”

Jo Ann smiled. “He probably just played possum when he heard the report of your gun, and you thought he was dead. They’ll do that sometimes.”

“No, I killed him—sure enough.”

“Well, that’s not like killing a bear—a real, live, wild, grizzly bear.”

“They don’t have grizzly bears down here, silly.”

“How do you know they don’t?” retorted Jo Ann. “Grizzlies are found in the mountains of North America, and this is North America, isn’t it? Besides, you haven’t seen his tracks.”

As the argument continued, Florence explained to María and the children what it was about. The two little girls stared wide eyed at Jo Ann and Peggy. They had never in all their lives heard of a girl’s going out to hunt a bear. They decided a gun must be one of those terrible things which their grandmother had told them about. A stick which shot forth a deadly fire that killed everything before it. She had warned them never to touch a fire stick and to hide if they saw anyone with one.

Peggy burst out just then with, “Well, young lady, you’re not going on a bear hunt without me, that’s sure.”

Mrs. Blackwell stared at Jo Ann and Peggy in horrified amazement. “Girls! What are you talking about? A bear hunt! The idea!”