“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.”