The old man regarded her curiously; almost suspiciously, Patsy thought.
“What ees suspec’?” he asked. “It ees nothing. To suspec’ ees not to know. Not to know ees—nothing at all.”
The girl stamped her foot impatiently, for she caught Beth smiling at her.
“What is Inez to you, Miguel?” she demanded.
Again he smiled the childlike, engaging smile.
“She ees to me nothing,” said he. “Inez is Mexican, but her family ees not my family. Not all Mexicans ees—re—spec’—ble. Once I know Inez’ father. He drink too much wheesky, an’ the wheesky make heem bad.”
“But you like Inez?”
“She ees good to Mees Jane; but—she have bad tempers.”
Patsy thought a moment.
“Did you know Mildred Travers when she used to live near here?” she asked.