"Don't know," said Walter; "but Francisco is all right. He knows what he's about."
After a little while the Indian boy reappeared looking elated.
"I did not make a mistake," he said. "It is Hernando who has taken Margarita. There she sits on his lap by the wagon. He has stopped there to water the horses. Come; I will show you."
"Do you think he means to steal her, Francisco? Oh, do you think he wants to take her away?" asked Nellie, tearfully.
"That I cannot tell," said Francisco. "He will not dare, when he sees us."
"How can we stop him? He can run off with his horses. Oh, how dreadful! how dreadful!" said Nellie, all but crying.
"Now, sister, if you are going to cry, we'll have to leave you behind," said Walter, keen for an adventure. He stepped softly on tiptoe in the tracks of Francisco as he had seen other boys do in pictures.
"But I won't stay behind," answered Nellie, stifling a sob. "Mamma would not like it if you left me here."
"We will not leave you; come along," said Francisco, leading across the meadow to another fringe of bushes. "Only be quiet," he continued, "so we will not be seen." They skirted the thicket, going a long way round, and after a time crossed the road and came out on a broad green expanse.
Two horses were feeding in the open; a wagon stood close by. The pedlar, his back to the children, was smoking under a tree. Beside him, contentedly munching candy from a box in her lap, sat Margarita.