For the girl could not believe, as Marty had suggested, that the odd, foreign-talking woman had had designs upon her money.
"You never can tell about those foreigners," Marty said gruffly at breakfast time. He had managed to remove the mustache and his lip was sore.
Marty had all the narrow-minded prejudices against foreigners of the inexperienced.
"You're going to have a fine time down here among these Mexicans," his cousin told him.
"Watch 'em. That's my motto," cried Marty. "And, say! ain't some o' the greasers funny-lookin' creatures?"
At every little, hot station they passed (for there was a startling difference in the temperature compared with the frosty nights and mornings they had left behind in Vermont) there were several of the broad-brimmed, high-crowned hats typically Méjico, as well as the shawl-draped figures of hatless women, and dozens of dirty, little-clothed children.
"Why! it looks like a foreign country already," Janice sighed.
But Marty was only eager. His eyes fairly snapped and he almost forgot to eat the very nice breakfast that Janice had ordered, he was so deeply interested in all that was outside the car windows.
Yet the outlook for the most part was rather dreary between stations, while the stations themselves were "as ugly as a mud fence" to quote Marty.
"But everything is new," said the boy. "I ain't missin' anything."