“I’d have had to tell Miss Prudence everything from A to Z about that woman if she’d seen her,” declared Jo Ann. She turned to Maria. “You must not let Miss Prudence know anything about what this woman said. Sabe?”
“No—I will not. I know nothing,” Maria replied with emphasis, then shrugging her shoulders added, “Miss Prudencia no speak the Spanish. I no speak the English.”
“Even if they did speak the same language, Maria wouldn’t confide in her,” Jo Ann thought. “They can’t understand each other. Neither one knows how good and kind the other is. Why is it that women living under the same roof are so often antagonistic to each other?”
Almost the same moment Miss Prudence entered the kitchen, gave Maria a few orders, with Florence as interpreter, then added in a suspicious tone, “I noticed a Mexican woman just leaving the house with a box in her hands. What did Maria give her?”
“Nothing,” Florence replied quickly. “Jo Ann gave her a box of caramels for her children. She’s the woman Jo Ann bought the jars from. I’m going to get some more from her and from the other villagers and ship them to my friend in St. Louis, who has a curio shop.”
When Miss Prudence changed the subject to a discussion of the menu for supper, all three girls were relieved.
CHAPTER XIV
JO ANN’S SEARCH
It was not till after they had gone to bed that night that the girls had an opportunity to talk over the woman’s story and Jo Ann’s and Florence’s discovery of the smuggler’s presence.
“I’m certainly glad you had my bed put in your room,” Florence remarked, reaching over across the narrow space that separated her bed from the girls’ double one and patting Jo Ann’s hand. “I’d be scared to sleep in one of these huge old rooms by myself—especially knowing about that smuggler’s being around here.”
“I’m as tall as he is, so I’m not scared of him,” grinned Jo Ann. “If I were as small and lilylike and fragile-looking as you, I might be uneasy.”