“I am what you call the take-care man around here,” went on Mendez. “I am the take-care man of the cottages—not all—some.”
“The ‘take-care’ man,” murmured Tom. “It sounds like the bugaboo-man.”
“Oh, he means the care-taker,” exclaimed Ruth. “I understand. You look after the property while the cottagers are away; isn’t that it?” and she smiled at the man, who bowed low and answered:
“The senorita has said it. I am the take-care man.”
“But I thought old Jake Blasdell had that job,” said Tom. “I know he used to be here. But I never knew he had this shack, though I haven’t been much on this part of the island.”
“Senor Blasdell did was the take-care man,” explained Mendez. “But he was took sick, and had to leave, and a friend got me the place. Me, I used to be of the sheep take-care in my country—Mexico, but I long for this country and I come. I do what you call a business on the edge.”
“On the edge?” murmured Tom.
“Yes, senor, on the edge. Or maybe you say on the point. You see he is like this: I am the take-care man for the cottages in place of Senor Blasdell in Winter. In Summer I am the cut-the-grass-man or the garden-man, what you like. Then, besides, in addition, on the edge I sell things in my store which it is unfortunately not open now, or I should show the senorita some pretty things. The store I do on the edge—or maybe on the point, I know not how you say,” and he shrugged his shoulders expressively.
“Oh, he means on the side!” cried Ruth. “Don’t you understand, Tom? He is a caretaker, and at odd times he sells things to the Summer cottagers.”
“The senorita has said it,” went on Mendez. “It is on the side, not on the edge—pardon!”