CHAPTER XV

“CARLITOS—GONE!”

Before Jo Ann could ask any more questions Florence and Peggy came flying out.

“What is the matter, Pepito?” Florence asked quickly. “Why were you running so hard?”

“Car—li—tos—gone!” he panted, his eyes filled with tears.

“Gone!” Florence repeated. She wheeled about. “Girls, he says Carlitos is gone—lost!”

She turned back. “How could he be lost? What’s happened?”

Realizing how exhausted Pepito was from running, Florence led him up to the porch and made him sit down. “Rest a few minutes, then tell me what’s happened,” she ordered.

After he had partially regained his breath, he began telling between sobs that Carlitos and the burro had been stolen. Carlitos, he said, had begged José to let him go to town to help sell the charcoal and that while there both he and the burro had disappeared.

Florence rapidly translated his broken story to the impatient girls.

“Carlitos stolen!” Jo Ann repeated, puzzled. “Does he mean kidnaped?”

“Sounds like it.” Florence began questioning Pepito again. “Where is your _papá_ now?”

“At the cave. When _mi papá_ tell us that Carlitos is lost, I come to you. You can help us find Carlitos.”

Florence repeated his words to the girls, saying, “Poor child, he thinks we can help them because we did before.”

“We’ve got to help,” Jo Ann spoke up emphatically. “We’ve got to find Carlitos. Let’s go down to the cave right now and talk to José and find out exactly what’s happened. Tell Pepito to stay here and rest while we go to the cave.”

When Florence suggested to him that he stay and rest, Pepito shook his head. “No, no, señorita. I go with you.”

Before starting to the cave Florence ran inside to tell her mother what had happened. “Peggy says she’ll stay and finish getting dinner while Jo and I go down and find out the details from José.”

“All right,” her mother replied. “I hope they’ll be able to find Carlitos before night.”

By the time Florence came back, Jo Ann was hurrying down the trail, Pepito following. Suddenly realizing that Pepito must not walk so rapidly, Jo Ann checked her pace, although she could hardly wait to find out from José what had really happened.

“I wonder if it’s possible that Carlitos has been kidnaped,” she thought anxiously. “That mean mine boss tried to get him once—maybe he’s had something to do with his disappearance.”

Just then Florence caught up with her and began talking over this new trouble. “We’ll have to do something to help find Carlitos, Jo. Had it occurred to you that that mean boss might’ve had a hand in his disappearance?”

Jo Ann nodded. “I was just thinking that very same thing. The fact that Carlitos is the rightful owner of the mine would give him a reason for wanting to get him out of the way.”

“That sounds terrible,” Florence shuddered, “but it’s possible, all right.”

As they neared the cave, the girls could hear the mother and grandmother talking rapidly in shrill excited voices. On entering they saw José crouched disconsolately in a corner, his face buried in his hands.

They stepped across to his side, and Florence began quickly, “José, Pepito has told us about Carlitos. Tell us all about what happened to him—how he disappeared—and where you saw him last. Maybe we can help you find him.”

José raised his head, his dark troubled eyes lighting a little at sight of the two girls who had helped to save his son’s life only a few days before.

“Ah, _Papá_,” put in María just then. “The señoritas—our friends—they will help us find Carlitos.”

“We hope we’ll be able to help,” Florence told them earnestly.

Brokenly then José began by telling how after several efforts he had succeeded in selling only a few _centavos’_ worth of the charcoal, and so he decided to exchange some of it for food. Leaving Carlitos outside to watch the burro, he had gone into the little general store of the village. After he had bargained with the storekeeper to exchange corn, _frijoles_ and coffee for a bag of charcoal, he had hurried out to get it.

To his amazement Carlitos and the burro were not in sight. Thinking they might have wandered down the street, he started off to look for them. They were nowhere to be seen, and after he had searched in vain all over the few streets of the village, he was in despair. Finally, after inquiring of several people, he found a man who said he’d seen a boy and a man go by driving a burro—only there were no bags of charcoal on the burro.

“I search much then, but I cannot find Carlitos or the burro,” he ended sorrowfully. “I have much fear that harm has come to Carlitos.”

As soon as José had stopped talking, Florence translated his story to Jo Ann.

When she reached the part about the man’s having seen a boy and a man driving a burro without any charcoal, Jo Ann spoke up quickly, “Maybe that boy was Carlitos.”

Florence turned back to José. “Do you suppose that boy was Carlitos who was helping to drive the burro?”

José shook his head. “No, no. The man say this boy hit much the burro. Carlitos no hit our burro.”

Jo Ann, who had caught the meaning of José’s words, put in, “Florence, maybe the man was making the boy hit the burro so he could hurry him out of the village. He probably wanted the burro too.”

When Florence translated this idea to José, he replied, “I thought of that too. I try to find them, but it was impossible. I hunt for many hours, but I find nothing.” He shook his head mournfully. “Carlitos gone—the burro gone—the charcoal gone—no have money to buy food for my children. Ah _Dios_, it is terrible!”

“I believe it’s that man from the mine who’s back of it all,” Jo Ann declared again. “He could easily have taken the charcoal off the burro and hidden it, and have frightened Carlitos into going with him.”

“That’s true,” agreed Florence. “He might’ve forced him to go at the point of a gun. That mean boss wouldn’t stop at anything.”

“Well, we must do something about it right now. Let’s go to the village and see if we can’t find out more about that man and boy. Will your mother let us go to the village with José?”

“Yes, I’m sure she will. It’s not so far there.” She turned to José and said, “We want you to go back to the village with us and see if we can find out something more about Carlitos. Go to the goat ranch and tell Juan to let us have two burros. We’ll go up to the house to tell my mother and then meet you at the cart road.”

José nodded assent. “_Bien_, señorita, I go immediately.”

The girls hurried up to the house, and Florence quickly explained their plans to her mother.

“I think it’ll be all right for you to go,” Mrs. Blackwell replied. “I hope you can find Carlitos, but be very careful. That man is probably capable of doing anything.”

“Oh, Mrs. Blackwell, he can’t be more dangerous than that bear,” put in Jo Ann. “We’ll be careful. I believe I’ll take the gun along. I’ll feel safer.”

“No, let’s take the pistol instead,” Florence put in. “The gun’s too heavy.” She took a pistol out of her bag and handed it to Jo Ann, then they set off down the trail and a little later found José at the road waiting for them with the burros.

Jo Ann hesitated a moment before getting on her burro. “This is my first experience riding without a saddle or a bridle.”

“Oh, it’s easy after you get used to it,” Florence encouraged. “You guide a burro, you know, by hitting him on the neck with a stick.” She sprang up nimbly onto the pack on the donkey’s back.

After Jo Ann had mounted on her burro she remarked, smiling, “This burro’s so small and my legs’re so long that they almost drag on the ground.”

“Sit farther back, the way the Mexicans do,” Florence called back. “It’s much easier riding that way.”

José followed, walking closely behind Jo Ann, having no difficulty in keeping up with the donkey’s pace.

“Isn’t there any way to make these animals go faster?” Jo Ann called to Florence impatiently a few minutes later.

“They’ll trot a little ways, but they really make as good time by keeping their steady pace. Remember you’re in Mexico, Jo.”

As soon as the three had reached the village, José took the girls to the store in front of which he had left Carlitos and the charcoal-laden burro a few hours before. “I know this storekeeper,” Florence told Jo Ann. “He’ll probably know if any strangers have been in the village lately. His store’s a meeting place for everybody in the village, and he hears all the gossip.”

She went inside and began questioning the storekeeper. “Have you heard of any strangers being in the village in the last day or two besides this man?” She pointed to José.

The storekeeper nodded his head, “_Sí_, señorita. I saw a man this morning that I have never seen before. He bought some cigarettes from me.”

“Did he come in before this man—José—did?”

“_Sí._ He said he was looking for a family that had lived at a mining camp across the mountains.”

Florence gave a little start. “Did he say why he wanted to find this family?”

“He say they were his friends.” The storekeeper shrugged his shoulders Mexican fashion and added, “I tell him I know nothing, and then he leave.”

Florence hurriedly recounted this information to Jo Ann, ending indignantly, “I believe that man was either the mean boss or someone he’d sent to get Carlitos. José knows what the boss looks like, so we can find out if the stranger was he.” She wheeled around to José and asked, “What’d that mean boss look like?”

“Very fat.” José gestured with his hands to indicate a Santa Claus figure, then twisted an imaginary mustache, adding, “and a big black mustache.” He turned to the storekeeper. “Did that man look like that?”

The storekeeper shook his head. “No. He very small—no mustache.”

“I’m glad it’s not the boss,” exclaimed Jo Ann.

“I am, too,” Florence agreed. She turned to José and said, “Take us down the street now where that man you talked to said he saw the strange man and the boy driving the burro.”

While José was guiding them to this street which led to the outskirts of the village, Florence caught sight of a familiar figure standing in an open doorway. “Wait a minute,” she explained. “There’s a woman I know. I’ll ask if she saw them pass.”

Florence hurried across the street and began explaining to the woman about their search for Carlitos and the burro. “Have you seen anybody of his description or heard anything about him?”

The woman shook her head, “No.”

Florence’s face fell. “Well, have you heard about anyone’s finding any bags of charcoal? This boy’s burro was carrying two bags of charcoal when he came to the village.”

The woman’s black eyes lit with interest. “_Sí_, señorita. Adela, the woman who lives at the corner, told me she had found two bags of charcoal in her yard this morning. She did not know how they got there.”

“Will you take us to her house and ask her to let us see the bags of charcoal? This man”—she nodded over at José—“will know if they’re his bags. His mother made them herself.”

The woman readily agreed to go with them, and in a few minutes they were shown the bags of charcoal.

A gleam of recognition immediately shone in José’s eyes. “_Sí_, señorita. These are the bags made by my mother.” His voice changed to a mournful note. “That boy was Carlitos. That man was making him beat the burro—he throw this charcoal over the wall. He very bad _hombre_.”

Jo Ann, who had caught the meaning of José’s words, put in quickly, “We’ve got to find that man and get Carlitos away from him. There’s no telling what he’ll do to him.”

“But José said he followed him for some distance out this way.” Florence wheeled about. “José,” she asked, “which direction do you go to get to that mine you came from?”

“You follow this road.” He gestured toward the winding road leading across the valley to the range of mountains.

Jo Ann spoke up impatiently, “Let’s start after Carlitos this minute. If we could find some horses to ride, we could overtake that man and Carlitos even if they did have several hours’ start. That man wouldn’t have taken the burro if he hadn’t intended using it. I know he can’t be traveling fast with a burro along. Come on, let’s see if we can find some horses.”

“We can get some horses here, I’m sure. Dad always gets his horse here when he comes to see us—a burro’s too slow for him.” Florence stopped a moment, then added hastily, “I believe I’ll call Dad—I can phone to him from here—and tell him what’s happened and——”

“Oh, Florence,” Jo Ann broke in, “ask him if we can’t go straight on to the mine. Tell him we’ll take José with us, and tell him if we don’t follow that man and Carlitos at once we’ll never see Carlitos again!”

“Well, all right. Come on. We’ll go back to the store—that’s where the only telephone in the village is. Come on, José.”