“Very fat.” José gestured with his hands to indicate a Santa Claus figure, then twisted an imaginary mustache, adding, “and a big black mustache.” He turned to the storekeeper. “Did that man look like that?”
The storekeeper shook his head. “No. He very small—no mustache.”
“I’m glad it’s not the boss,” exclaimed Jo Ann.
“I am, too,” Florence agreed. She turned to José and said, “Take us down the street now where that man you talked to said he saw the strange man and the boy driving the burro.”
While José was guiding them to this street which led to the outskirts of the village, Florence caught sight of a familiar figure standing in an open doorway. “Wait a minute,” she explained. “There’s a woman I know. I’ll ask if she saw them pass.”
Florence hurried across the street and began explaining to the woman about their search for Carlitos and the burro. “Have you seen anybody of his description or heard anything about him?”
The woman shook her head, “No.”
Florence’s face fell. “Well, have you heard about anyone’s finding any bags of charcoal? This boy’s burro was carrying two bags of charcoal when he came to the village.”
The woman’s black eyes lit with interest. “Sí, señorita. Adela, the woman who lives at the corner, told me she had found two bags of charcoal in her yard this morning. She did not know how they got there.”
“Will you take us to her house and ask her to let us see the bags of charcoal? This man”—she nodded over at José—“will know if they’re his bags. His mother made them herself.”