“Sí, sí,” she replied, and reached over to take the rope from him. “How much is it?” she asked in Spanish.
As soon as he replied she answered promptly, “Bien—I’ll take it,” and handed it back to him to be wrapped.
To her amazement he unfastened the coil and spread the rope out before her to show her how long it was, then jerked on it to show its strength.
“Sí, sí—that’s all right, but wrap it up—and hurry, please.”
“He’s the slowest person I ever saw,” she murmured to Peggy. “I’m afraid Florence’ll find us before I get it wrapped. I hardly think she’ll notice it under these roses, do you?”
Once more the Mexican handed her the rope without any sign of wrapping and with one long end dangling from the loose coil.
“Jo, look!” Peggy put in quickly, pointing to the next booth. “They don’t wrap their packages here. That’s why he didn’t understand you.”
“Horrors! I can’t carry it this way—what’ll I do? I’d like to——” She stopped suddenly as a familiar voice behind her exclaimed, “Oh, here you are! I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
Jo Ann dropped the rope as if it were a hot coal.
“I was beginning to think you girls were lost,” Florence went on.