Jo Ann put her hand on Carlitos’ shoulder. “Are the boys going with you, José?”
José shook his head. “No, I think it better that they do not go.”
Shortly after the children had finished eating their refreshments, each one politely thanked the girls and offered a grimy, sticky little hand in a farewell shake.
As María was leaving with her family she remarked to Florence again, “You have much kindness, señoritas—like Carlitos’ mamá. I have much joy that he has friends Americanos now.”
After they had all left Jo Ann said determinedly, “We’ve simply got to find Carlitos’ relatives right away. María and José are as kind to him as they can be—they treat him as if he were their own child—but they’re so pitifully poor and ignorant.”
Florence shook her head dubiously. “I wish we could find some of his relatives, but it looks as if we’re up against a stone wall now. We’ve done everything we could.”
“Oh, Jo’ll solve the mystery—she’ll climb right over the stone wall,” laughed Peggy. “She’s great on climbing.”
The next day, when the girls were busily preparing dinner on the outdoor fireplace, Jo Ann happened to glance down the road. “Good gracious!” she exclaimed. “Is that Pepito, running like that? It is! Why, he oughtn’t to run like that.”
She rushed out to meet him. “No, no, Pepito! You mustn’t run like that,” she called to him.
Gasping for breath, Pepito ejaculated, “Carlitos! Oh, Carlitos!”