“We get you, Flores,” said Lance, quickly. Then he said something to the Mexicans in their own tongue and the fellows exchanged fierce glances and scowled at Philo Marsh, who sneaked away from their vicinity in quick retreat.
Flores was in tears; but Tavia was still widely smiling. “Oh, dear!” she sighed. “Wasn’t it fun, Doro—as long as it lasted? I never do expect to have such a ride again. It was just like one of those moving picture chases we used to see.”
“Tavia Travers!” exclaimed Dorothy. “I believe you knew all the time that it wasn’t Aunt Winnie these men had carried off.”
“Well! you might have seen all the colors of the rainbow in her frock, too, before they first rode out of sight,” said Tavia, her eyes wickedly dancing. “I never saw Mrs. White sporting very gay colors, my dear.”
“She went to lie down, you remember, before ever we went down to see them burn those poor little calves,” Tavia replied. “She had a headache. Like enough she fell asleep and did not hear us when we came back. You called only once for her.”
If never before, Dorothy Dale felt a measure of exasperation at Tavia which came near causing a falling-out between them. And yet, when Dorothy stopped to think, she realized that she was at fault in that she had not searched properly for Aunt Winnie before starting upon this wild-goose chase.
Then she heard what Nat was saying to Tavia. Nat could always find something to praise in the latter young person’s conduct, no matter what she did:
“Say, Tavia! if you hadn’t started this riot about mother being kidnapped, Hank would have had to face this gang alone. Maybe they would have got him. You’re all right, Tavia!”
“Thanks, Monsieur!” responded the elfish Tavia, bowing.