“I know what we’d better do!” exclaimed Jo Ann as a sudden solution of the problem occurred to her. “We can take them to Señor Rodriguez and let him dispose of them in the proper legal manner. Don’t you think that would be best?”
“Yes—perhaps so,” slowly agreed Florence. “He ought to know what would be right.”
While Florence and Jo Ann had been arguing about what to do with the pieces of jewelry, Peggy was putting them back in the black box.
“I can’t get all these things back in this box,” she sighed finally. “How in the world did they ever get so much in such a small box?”
“Wait! Don’t close it. We might not be able to get it open again.” Jo Ann reached over and took the box. “Let me tie this string around it so nothing’ll spill out.”
In a few minutes the box was securely tied. Holding it tightly, Jo Ann hastened back to the entrance to the tunnel, the other girls following closely.
CHAPTER XVI
MORE PRECIOUS THAN JEWELS
At the very moment that Peggy was lying terror-stricken at the feet of the mummies Dr. Blackwell had just made an alarming discovery.
He had been wakened from a deep peaceful sleep by the sound of vigorous knocking on the outer door and had quickly scrambled out of bed and into his clothes. He well knew that this knocking meant that someone was in distress and needed his professional services. Louder and louder had come the sound. Fearing that everyone in the house would be awakened, he had hurried down to answer the door.
When he had not seen Florence at the head of the stairs, waiting to bolt the door as usual, he had gone to her room and found it empty and the beds undisturbed. Immediately he had run from room to room, calling the girls, but had heard only the echoes of his own worried voice. All three girls had utterly disappeared!
A terrible fear swept over him—they had been kidnaped! But no, that was impossible, he told himself the next moment. Three strong, healthy girls could not be carried off without making a sound.
What should he do? Call the police? Something must be done immediately, but there was so much red tape connected with governmental affairs in this country that it would be hours before anything could be done. Perhaps it would be better to call his good friend Señor Rodriguez. He would advise him the best steps to take.
Quickly, his hand shaking so he could scarcely write, he scribbled a note to the Señor. It was almost illegible, but the words, “Come at once” were plain, and that was all that was necessary.
Rushing down the stairs, he hurried past the man waiting at the door, without speaking. The man stared after him in blank amazement. What was the matter? Was the Doctor Americano loco?
On across the street ran Dr. Blackwell to the corner of the Plaza, where a taxi could be found at any hour of the day or night.
He shook the sleeping taxi driver by the shoulder. “Hombre, hombre, wake up! Take this letter to the Señor Rodriguez and bring him back with you. Muy pronto, sabe?”
The lazy, easy-going Mexican straightened in surprise. He had carried this American doctor on many an urgent call, but he had never seen him so nervous and excited before. This must be something very important. Very well, he would show el doctor how he could hurry. There was a roar, the grinding of gears, and the car was off like a shot.
In an amazingly short time Señor Rodriguez rushed into the office. He found Dr. Blackwell slumped in a chair, his face in his hands.
“Doctor, what has happened? What is the matter?” he asked in Spanish.
In a few halting words Dr. Blackwell told him of the girls’ disappearance. “What shall I do, señor?” he ended, his voice vibrant with emotion.
Before the amazed Señor could take in the situation and answer this question, there was the sound of light, flying feet on the balcony floor.
The next moment, after one swift glance at her father, Florence dropped on her knees at his feet, exclaiming, “Daddy! Are you sick?”
Startled at the sound of her voice, Dr. Blackwell almost jumped out of his chair. “Florence!” he cried. “Florence!”
“What’s the matter, Daddy?” she asked anxiously.
In the moment of silence that followed her question she turned to Señor Rodriguez. “Tell me what’s happened, señor.”
“Where’d you come from?” Dr. Blackwell put in before the Señor could speak. “How’d you get here? Oh, child, I’ve been so frightened and worried! I thought something terrible had happened to you and the girls. Where are they?”
“Right here,” answered Jo Ann, who had just come running in with Peggy. “Don’t—blame Florence—it’s really—all my fault.”
“Why, Dad, there’s nothing the matter with us—we’re all right,” said Florence, rising. “We just went up on the roof and—”
“What are you girls talking about?” he demanded, noticing for the first time their disreputable appearance—their grimy faces, Jo’s bloodstained shirt, and their knickers. “What have you been doing?”
“We’ve been solving the mystery,” eagerly explained Florence.
“What mystery?”
“Why, the mystery of that strange little window in the back of the house.”
“But how did you get out of the house without unbolting the door? You know better than to go out at this hour of night.”
“Don’t scold, Dad,” begged Florence. “We haven’t been down on the street. We climbed through the little window and found a tunnel under the street.”
“A tunnel!” he repeated, bewildered. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Why, there’s a long tunnel that starts under the back of our house and goes under the street, clear to the church—and I don’t know how much farther—there’s a regular network of passages, and—”
While Florence stopped to catch her breath, her father turned to Señor Rodriguez. “Do you know anything about a tunnel under the street?”
Señor Rodriguez shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face.
By that time Florence had started talking again, her words tumbling over each other in her hurry. “And we’ve found lots of valuable things—candelabra—old papers—and jewels! Real jewels! Diamonds—rubies. Open the box, Jo, and show them!”
With fingers fumbling in her haste Jo Ann was already untying the string about the box. Her eyes shining, she turned its contents upon a chair in front of Dr. Blackwell. Under the bright lights the jewels sparkled far more brilliantly than they had in the tunnel.
In the silence that followed, the three girls waited breathlessly. What would Dr. Blackwell and the Señor say about their discovery? Would they be forgiven now for the anxiety they had caused?
After a long pause Dr. Blackwell gently pulled Florence down on the arm of his chair. “They’re beautiful,” he said, “but I shudder to think of the risks you three took to get them—of what might have happened to you. No one would ever have known where you were. I’m so thankful to have you all back safe and sound. You’re far more precious to me than these jewels.”
“Oh, but, doctor, it wasn’t as dangerous as it sounds,” put in Jo Ann eagerly. “We were very careful.” Recalling some of her moments of anxiety in the past few hours, she hesitated and added a little less confidently, “Perhaps it was more dangerous than we realized, but we’re all right now, and we wanted so badly to solve the mystery of that window and to surprise you.”
A smile passed over Dr. Blackwell’s face. “You surprised me all right.”
Encouraged by this change of expression on the doctor’s face, Jo Ann went on, “I’m sorry you were worried. We thought we’d get back before you discovered we were gone. You’ll forgive us, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Dr. Blackwell replied slowly, “provided you all promise never to risk your precious lives that way again.”
“Oh, we’ll promise that, won’t we, girls?”
Florence and Peggy nodded an emphatic assent.
With a wave of her hand toward the jewels Jo Ann added, “Now
that we’ve explored that tunnel and found all these, we’re satisfied.” She turned then and handed Señor Rodriguez the old yellowed papers. “I’m sure you’ll be interested in these papers. They look like old records.”
Curiously the Señor unrolled one of the old documents and began reading it. Soon he was poring over them, oblivious of everything else.
In the meanwhile the girls examined the jewels more closely and reveled in their beauty.
Dr. Blackwell interrupted their chatter finally, saying, “I haven’t been able to piece together all your disjointed account of your adventures. Suppose you begin at the first, Jo, since you were the originator of the whole thing, and tell the whole story.”
Jo Ann needed no second invitation. She began at once to give a vivid account of their getting the rope and their climb to the roof; then went on to their descent into the hidden room and the tunnel; and finally to the discovery of the candelabra, papers, and jewelry. With the help of Peggy and Florence not even the smallest detail was left untold.
“An amazing tale,” Dr. Blackwell commented when they had finished, “but I’m still shuddering about the risks you took.”
Eager to change the subject, Jo Ann turned to Señor Rodriguez and asked, “Can you make anything out of these papers?”
“Yes, Mees Jo.” There was a tinge of excitement in the Señor’s voice in spite of his attempt to appear calm. “Dey are ver’ old records and I t’ink may be ver’ valuable. One hab de name of my gran’modder’s family. If dey are what I t’ink—ah, dat would be wonderful! Somet’ing dat has been lost for many, many years—how you say in Ingles?—de missing link? Wid your permission I would like to take dem to my office and study dem.”
“That’s just what we want you to do. I can hardly wait to find out more about them. We would like your advice, too, about what to do with all these beautiful things.” She gestured toward the jewels and then, reaching over, picked up the opal ring that had so fascinated her. “This is the most beautiful opal I’ve ever seen, and it’s set so artistically. I’m glad my birthday’s in October, so it’s not unlucky for me to wear an opal, since I’m particularly fond of that stone.”
The Señor smiled. “Since it’s your lucky stone, try this ring on, Mees Jo.”
Obediently Jo Ann slipped the ring on her finger. “Oh, señor, it’s lovely.”
While she was still admiring it, Peggy picked up the filigree necklace. “This is the daintiest piece of all, I think,” she remarked.
“And this is the most beautiful, according to my notion,” smiled Florence, pointing to a bracelet of old gold set with sapphires and tiny diamonds. “The sapphire is my birthstone.”
Señor Rodriguez was much pleased by the girls’ admiration. “De people of my country are ver’ artistic,” he said. “Dey make many beautiful t’ings.”
“To whom do you think all these jewels and things belong?” Jo Ann asked. “And why were they put in that room under the church?”
“Mees Jo, I do not know. I am ver’ sorry dat I cannot answer you dat. I have heard dat long ago in de wars de people carried der most valuable t’ings to de church for safe keeping. I may be able to find out who owns dese from de papers.”
“I’m sure these jewels are very valuable,” Dr. Blackwell remarked in Spanish to the Señor. “I’m away so much that I don’t like to leave the girls alone with them in the house. Would you take charge of them till you find out to whom they belong?”
Señor Rodriguez nodded. “Yes, if you wish, doctor. I will be glad to take them and put them in my safe till I find out to whom they belong.”
CHAPTER XVII
THE SEÑOR’S STORY
In the days that followed the discovery of the papers and jewels the girls were all impatience to hear from Señor Rodriguez. Jo Ann especially was restless. Always she had disliked inaction, and now she wanted to find out everything “right straight away.” She failed to realize that the Señor was having to search through scores of old city records for information, and that, like a true Spaniard, he was thorough—painstakingly accurate in every detail.
Again and again the three girls talked over that eventful night and the unanswered questions—Why had those things been hidden in that underground room? Why had no one found them before? To whom did they belong?
“Since we found those things under the church, they probably belong to the church,” Jo Ann declared thoughtfully one morning in one of these discussions. Her eyes suddenly began to shine as she added, “I know what I wish they’d do if the jewels belong to them—sell them and take the money to restore that part of the building that’s in ruins. The people are too poor to have it repaired. Such an old historic building ought not to be allowed to fall into decay. Then, if there were any money left after the repairing was done, it could be used for a special relief fund for the poor people.”
“Those are both fine ideas,” approved Florence.
“I wish I had enough money to buy that lovely filigree necklace, if the jewels are sold,” put in Peggy. Her face lengthened. “I know, though, it’d be more expensive than I could afford.”
“I’d love to have that beautiful opal ring,” spoke up Jo Ann wistfully.
Florence half sighed as she added, “That bracelet with my birthstone and the tiny diamonds was so attractive.”
To the girls’ delight at lunch that day Dr. Blackwell announced that at four o’clock Señor Rodriguez was coming over to tell them what he had found out about the records and jewels.
“My, but I’m glad!” exclaimed Jo Ann. “I was beginning to think he’d never come.”
By half-past three the girls were waiting eagerly in Dr. Blackwell’s office for the Señor’s coming. Peggy and Florence chatted gaily with Dr. Blackwell, but Jo Ann kept glancing nervously at her watch. She felt that this was one of the most important events in her whole life. If only she could be instrumental in restoring that old church—that would be wonderful!
At last voices were heard in the hall, and Felipe ushered in Señor Rodriguez and, to their surprise, Padre Ignacio.
As soon as greetings had been exchanged, Señor Rodriguez placed the yellowed papers on the table and beside them the jewel box, which no longer was black, but bright and shining.
“Why, the box is silver!” thought Jo Ann, amazed, “He’s had it polished till it’s beautiful.”
Señor Rodriguez was all lawyer now—dignified and formal. “My dear young ladies, I haf de honor of congratulate you on de wonderful discovery you haf made,” he began in his broken English, bowing to each of the girls. “Dese are ver’ valuable papers which you haf found—ver’ valuable to de city, ver’ valuable to de church and to my family,” he added, smiling.
The girls smiled back happily. They didn’t understand all that he was talking about or why they should receive so much praise, but evidently their discovery was more important than they had realized.
He then went on to explain how, after searching through the archives of the city, studying old records, and checking names and dates, he felt that he could give some authentic information about the papers.
They were records dating before 1846 of some of the oldest most prominent families of the city. Several of the older inhabitants with whom he had talked remembered having heard their parents tell of the exciting times when the city had been besieged by the American forces under General Zachary Taylor. As soon as they had realized they could hold out no longer against the Americans, they had hidden their most valuable possessions, of which only a small part had ever been recovered. Tales of vast treasures hidden under the city had been handed down from generation to generation, but few of them seemed to have any foundation.
“Dis General Guerrero whose name you see on dis paper,” continued the Señor, picking up one of the papers, “was de fadder of my esteemed gran’fadder. Dey are de records of de families of Guerrero and Rodriguez before 1846. Finding dem will clear de titles to some ver’ valuable property which belong to my family.”
&
nbsp; “Oh, señor, I’m so glad!” exclaimed Florence.
“We are, too, aren’t we, Peggy?” added Jo Ann.
The Señor went on to say that when he showed the jewels and papers to his grandmother, she recalled a story told to her in her childhood by her mother just before she died. According to this story her husband, General Guerrero, at the time of the siege, had given her some important papers which he had told her to guard above everything. When the general had realized that the city could no longer hold out, he had sent a messenger with a hastily written note telling her to send those valuable papers and their jewels to him by this man. She had reluctantly handed the papers and jewels to the messenger, but that was the last she had ever heard or seen of them. As the general had been killed that same day, she supposed the things had been either lost or stolen. For that reason no effort was ever made to recover them.
“And dese are de papers dat were lost,” finished the Señor. “How ver’ fortunate it is dat you find dem!”
“But how could they have ever got in that secret underground room?” asked Florence.
Señor Rodriguez shook his head. “Dat I do not know. I t’ink perhaps someone carry dem to de padre, and he hide dem along wid odder valuable t’ings which had been sent to him. De tunnels under de church had been used for carrying reinforcements and food to de army at de outskirts of de city. Dat is why dey could hold out so long against de American forces.”
“No wonder we couldn’t find the other end of the tunnel!” exclaimed Jo Ann. “It must be several miles long.” She turned to Señor Rodriguez. “Do the jewels belong to your family, too?”
“Ah, dat I do not know. Some of dem I t’ink belong to my family, but it is impossible to be sure. My gran’modder say she sure dis little ring—dis little ring you admire so much, Mees Jo—was her Gran’modder Guerrero’s ring.”
He went on to explain how, since they had no way of finding exactly to whom the jewels had belonged, they had decided it would be better to return them to the church, as it had been very poor for years.
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