“The sun is what?” Veve demanded, for she knew Juan had spoken in his own language.
“‘The sun is the poor man’s coat,’” the little boy translated.
The Brownies were somewhat puzzled and did not understand Juan’s meaning. Seeing their expressions, he went on:
“If a Mexican has a sun to warm his back, he does not need fine clothing to be happy.”
Juan said no more just then. However, later, as he was showing the girls the figure he had carved, he remarked that he might not see them again.
“Why, aren’t you staying with the other pickers until the crop is harvested?” Connie asked quickly.
Again Juan shrugged. “Who knows?” he questioned. “All of the pickers may leave.”
“Is it because you don’t like to work for Carl Wingate?” Veve asked. She recalled how the boy had been hit with a stick.
“He has been very ugly,” Juan replied. “He cheats on weight and does not pay us all he owes.”
“But the other orchard owners aren’t like that,” Eileen insisted.