"That is what I think," said Francisco. "When he went away to-day he was not thinking of it, maybe, but when he saw her from his high seat in the wagon he thought he would take her home with him. He has not much good sense, that fellow. If she had cried on the road he would, maybe, have brought her back. Anyhow, there is not much harm done—maybe good—for she will be careful now."
He was in the act of turning Rosinante homeward when he saw his uncle approaching. The old man looked very much troubled.
"What is it?" asked the boy.
"Something very bad," was the reply. "Something very, very bad. I do not believe it, Francisco, but the missionary woman has lost her pocket-book, and they say that you have stolen it."
[C] Sweets.
[D] "Plenty here."
CHAPTER VIII.
FALSELY ACCUSED.
Francisco paled visibly under his swarthy skin. Then his face grew a dark crimson.