She listened intently for a moment, but not a sound came from above. Apparently everyone was still asleep.
Softly she slipped up the stairs, step by step, till she caught a glimpse of the sleeping Felipe just as she had left him, his chair tipped back against the wall and his head dropped forward.
There was only one more step now. Holding her breath, she lifted her foot; then suddenly there was a loud bumping noise. She was so startled she almost lost her balance. Clutching at the wall, she stared before her. Felipe, roused by some strange instinct, had let his chair down with a bang.
“No—no—no! Muy mal [Very bad]!” he exclaimed, pointing to her face. He patted himself on the head and talked rapidly in Spanish in an effort to make her understand that the sun was “bad for the head,” as he expressed it.
Much disgusted with herself for getting caught, and eager to escape, she called back “Sí, sí [Yes, yes],” and hastened on to her room. Now that her plan to measure the hall had been interrupted, she would have to wait till a more opportune time for that. Searching for paper and pencil, she decided to do the next best thing—put the outside measurements down so there’d be no danger of forgetting them.
She was sitting by the window busily drawing a plan of the house when Florence called in a surprised voice, “Why, Jo Ann! Where have you been? Your face is as red as a beet.”
“It’s nothing,” she replied. “I just went down and measured the position of those windows on the back wall. And was it hot!”
“You mean you’ve been down there in the sun!” Florence could hardly believe her ears. “Jo, you shouldn’t have done that.”
At the sound of voices Peggy opened her eyes, then sat up in bed to stare at Jo Ann. “For goodness’ sake, Jo, what’ve you been up to now?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Jo Ann answered crisply. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? She hadn’t committed a crime.