The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls
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“I’m not keen on this trip anyway, since we won’t get to stay in the city tonight and promenade on the Plaza,” she grumbled drowsily as she sat on the edge of the bed, making no move to dress. “I’m not interested in seeing an old mystery man, as Jo Ann is.”
“Only in handsome young Mexican ones,” Jo Ann grinned. “Well, you may pass your smiling young Mexican on the street today.”
“If I should, I’d look very romantic sitting in an old car packed with a huge crate, now, wouldn’t I? He’d think I was bringing chickens or something to market.”
Both girls laughed at Peggy’s disgusted tone.
“That reminds me,” Jo Ann added, “that we must go straight to the market as soon as we reach the city.”
By the time they had dressed and had eaten a hurried breakfast, José was waiting for them with the horses. To their surprise he rode on up the trail with them.
“I didn’t know you were going with us,” Florence remarked to him.
“Miss Prudencia say I must take you to the village and go back for you this afternoon.”
“That’s good. It might be late this evening before we get back, but we’re counting on getting back before dark.”
As soon as they reached Jitters’ House, they changed their clothes while José was putting the pottery crate into their car.
“Jitters is a picture now,” Peggy remarked on coming out to the car.
“You’ll be sure to see your handsome young man today,” teased Jo Ann.
So interested were the girls in their plans for the day, as they drove through the village, that Jo Ann for once forgot to look over at the pottery woman’s shack till after she had reached Pedro’s store. “Did either of you notice if the pottery was still piled up by the woman’s house?” she asked.
Both shook their heads.
“I’m sure it must be still there. The woman seemed to be certain that the men weren’t coming till tomorrow to get it. She said they’d sent her word this time.”
As there was little travel on the road, Jo Ann was able to make good time. As usual, she had planned to let Florence drive when they neared the city.
“At the rate you’re speeding, Jo,” Florence remarked finally, “we’ll be in town before we realize it.”
Jo Ann laughed. “Speeding in Jitters? Impossible. That old car in front of us isn’t built for speeding, either. It’s been keeping ahead at about the same distance for the last hour.”
“So I’ve noticed,” said Peggy. “It must be of the same year’s vintage as Jitters.”
“If she is, Jitters can beat her. I’m going to step on it and see if I can’t gain on her.” With that Jo Ann stepped on the gas, and soon their car was lessening the distance between it and the car ahead.
As they drew closer Jo Ann suddenly uttered an excited little cry.
“What’s the matter?” queried Florence and Peggy together.
“That’s the smugglers’ car!”
“You’re crazy, Jo!” ejaculated Peggy derisively.
“It can’t be!” Florence cried.
“But it is! I’m positive it is.”
“You’re just guessing,” retorted Peggy. “You can’t tell from here.”
“I’m going to pass that car, and you look hard, Florence, and see if those men aren’t the smugglers and if it isn’t piled full of pottery.”
“Oh, don’t, Jo,” begged Peggy, now beginning to be afraid that Jo Ann might be right. “Don’t try to pass it.”
CHAPTER XIX
AN EXCITING RACE
With a warning honk of her horn Jo Ann sped up and started to pass the other car.
Almost simultaneously one of the men turned and stared incredulously, then shouted out a sharp order. The next instant the other man swerved his car dangerously toward them, trying to force them off into a deep ditch.
“Oh, step on it!” cried Peggy. “Step on it!”
“They’re trying to hit us!” shrieked Florence.
Somewhere from the back of Jo Ann’s mind came the command, “Keep your head!”
Automatically her nerves and muscles obeyed. She turned her car sharply and swiftly out toward the ditch as close as she dared, giving it all the gas that it would take.
For a perilous moment that seemed ages-long to the girls the car hovered near the edge of the bank. Instinctively both Florence and Peggy leaned to the other side of the car, as if to make their weight the deciding factor in keeping the car from falling into the ditch.
Then, to their unbounded relief, their car swept by, missing the other by a few inches.
“A miracle!” gasped Peggy.
“Keep stepping on it!” implored Peggy as she turned to look back at the smugglers’ car. “They’re coming full tilt after us.”
“O-oh, hear them yelling at us!” put in Florence, her eyes dilated with fright. “They’re trying to catch us. Step on it! Suppose they should shoot at us—or our tires!”
Though Jo Ann heard the girls’ earnest pleas, she wasted no energy in replying. Every cell in her brain must be centered on driving. That car was still dangerously near. They might push past and try that same trick of forcing her into the ditch on the other side. Moreover, the road ahead was much steeper and narrower. It wound threadlike up the mountain side. What if those smugglers should deliberately wait and force them off that high road! To be knocked off that steep rocky cliff would mean death for all of them. And what if her engine should go bad up there—or a tire blow out! “Steady, Jo,” she ordered herself. “Stop worrying and concentrate on driving.”
“They’re not gaining an inch,” Florence called out encouragingly then.
“But they’re not losing any,” added Peggy.
When, in spite of her determination not to worry, she had to slow down at turns in the winding road, she found her breath coming more and more quickly. Perhaps the smugglers could make the turns faster.
Again and again Florence encouraged her with, “They’re not gaining.”
Finally, when they were nearing the highest stretch of all, Florence exclaimed, “They’re dropping behind a little now! See, Peg!”
“Hot ziggity! They are, sure enough!” cried Peggy, vastly relieved. “I believe the worst’s over. But don’t slow down, Jo.”
“I won’t any more than I have to,” Jo Ann replied, cheered immensely by the girls’ assurance that the smugglers were dropping behind in the race.
“Good old Jo—and good old Jitters,” praised Florence. “They can’t be beaten.”
“Don’t brag too soon,” Jo Ann found time to say in short, clipped sentences.
She was determined to keep Jitters running at the greatest speed possible, and yet not be reckless in making the many sharp curves. With mind and eyes ever alert, she watched the road. She must be ready for any emergency.
Florence and Peggy kept turning every minute or two to watch the pursuing car.
“It’s losing ground right along,” Peggy kept saying, ending each time with, “isn’t it, Florence?”
Each time, to Jo Ann’s joy, Florence would reply with an emphatic “Yes.”
Still Jo Ann held to the maximum speed possible for safety. “Nothing like being on the safe side,” she told herself. “They might gain on us on the down grade.”
After they were on the downward stretch, both girls assured her that they believed the danger was over. “They’ll never catch us now unless we have engine or tire trouble.”
A few minutes later, on glancing back, Peggy exclaimed triumphantly, “They’ve about stopped! They’ve stopped now! On that highest curve. One of them’s getting out now. Maybe they have a flat.”
“Here’s hoping they have two flats,” smiled Florence.
“Why not wish for three, for good measure?” added Jo Ann.
“Say, aren’t you thankful Miss Prudence isn’t along?” Peggy asked suddenly.
Both girls smiled, and Peggy went on, “She’d have had heart failure or something by this time.”
A few minutes later Florence announced that it would not be long till they would reach the city. “Do you think we’d better change, Jo, and let me take the wheel?”
Jo Ann shook her head. “I don’t want to stop even long enough for that.”
“Oh, no, don’t change,” begged Peggy, immediately disturbed at the idea of stopping.
“I know the shortest way to the market now, and that’s where we want to go first,” Jo Ann declared. “I’ve got to find the mystery man at once, so he can get on the smugglers’ trail.”
“It won’t be easy for him to follow them even then,” Peggy said thoughtfully. “Can’t they go around the city some way?”
“No, that’s the only road till they get to the edge of the city,” replied Florence. “They’ll probably not come up into the main part.”
“I imagine the mystery man’ll phone or telegraph to the officers on both sides of the border to be on the lookout,” put in Jo Ann. “They could catch more of the gang that way.”
When Jo Ann turned into the street leading to the market, Florence remarked, “It’ll be no use trying to find a parking place in front of the market. It’s always full. You’ll save time by parking in the first empty place you find within a reasonable distance. I’ve wasted as much as half an hour hunting for a parking place down here.”
“We mustn’t waste any time anyway,” Peggy put in. “We have lots of things to buy for Miss Prudence, and I’ve a little shopping I want to do, too. We can be doing our buying while Jo hunts up her mystery man.”
At quite a little distance from the market Jo Ann found a parking place. No sooner had she stopped the car than she sprang out, saying, “I’ll meet you at that same booth in front, where we waited the other day.”
Off she rushed down the street, her fast-flying steps causing more than one Mexican to say smilingly, “Americana.”
When Peggy tried to lock the car a few moments later, she found that she couldn’t. “Something’s gone wrong with it,” she said, handing the key to Florence. “See if you can make it work.”
After several unsuccessful efforts Florence slipped the keys into her purse, saying, “Oh, let’s don’t worry any more about trying to lock it. We can get a boy to watch the car for us.” Hardly had she finished speaking than she caught a glimpse of the newsboy with whom Carlitos had been so friendly. “Here’s the very boy!” she exclaimed, gesturing to him to come to her.
The boy’s large black eyes lit in swift recognition, and he ran over to her side.
Florence quickly explained to him that she wanted him to watch the car while she went to the market.
With a nod of assent the boy answered, smiling, “Sí. I watch good for you. You are Carlitos’s friend.”
“He’ll watch it right; we won’t have to worry,” Florence said confidently as she and Peggy walked on down to the market.
Soon they were busily buying fruit and vegetables.
In the meantime Jo Ann had elbowed her way through the crowded aisles of the market to the pottery booth at the back. On reaching the booth she stared around, anxious-eyed, hunting for the mystery man. Oh, where was he? There wasn’t a sign of him anywhere. He’d said he was always around here at this time of day. What if he should’ve missed coming this day?
She walked slowly back of the booth and on around to the front again, her eyes scanning every man in sight. “He’s not here,” she told herself finally, “and I don’t know where else to go to look for him. Oh dear! The smugglers’ll get away again.”
Just as she had reached this discouraging conclusion a stalwart, olive-skinned man with a dark mustache and black hat stepped up to her side and said in a low tone, “Don’t show your surprise—I’m the man you’re looking for.”
The mystery man! Jo Ann barely suppressed a gasp of amazement. Disguised as a Mexican. The same aquiline nose and gray eyes, but how startlingly different he looked.
In almost an inaudible voice she told him as quickly as she could about the smugglers being on the way to the city.
The man’s eyes shone on hearing this news. “Good work. We’ll follow them this time and try to get the ringleaders of the gang as well as those two. I must get word to my men right away on both sides. You’re still at the La Esperanza Mine?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you know how I come out. Many thanks for your help.” With that the man rushed off toward a side exit.
Feeling relieved and happy that she had succeeded in delivering this message, Jo Ann walked on to the front to look for the girls and found them, as she had thought she would, buying fruit and vegetables.
Peggy was the first to spy her. “You don’t have to tell us you’ve had success, Jo,” she said. “You’re smiling from ear to ear.”
“I didn’t mean to be that jubilant.”
“You have a right to be happy,” Florence said warmly. “Peg and I are glad, too, aren’t we?”
“Sure.”
While Peggy and Florence selected the fruit and vegetables, Jo Ann made the other purchases, chiefly by means of the sign language, as her Spanish was not sufficient for bargaining. As soon as they had all finished their buying, Florence found two small Mexican boys to carry their piles of packages to the car. With the boys at their heels they started out to the street, Florence in the lead.
Just as she stepped out on the street, Florence caught sight of the newsboy, his face and head bleeding, almost surrounded by a crowd of people.
“Gracious! What can have happened to the poor child?” she gasped as she ran toward him.
As soon as he saw Florence the newsboy began explaining between sobs, “Oh, señorita, two men—stole—your car! I try to stop them—and one of them—knock me down.”
“Oh, that is terrible!” Florence cried, at the same time scrutinizing his wounds. “Not deep, but painful,” she decided before going on to question him about the appearance of the men.
Brokenly, the boy began describing the man who had hit him. “He had a scar—on his chin—and one eye squinted—an evil eye.”
“That sounds like the taller one of the smugglers,” Florence decided immediately. “Was he the taller one of the two men?” she asked.
“Sí. I try to keep them—from stealing your car, but—” The boy stopped talking to sob afresh.
“I’m sure you tried,” Florence comforted him. “Here is some money.” She handed him some coins and then a clean handkerchief, adding, “Wipe the blood with this.”
A tall professional-looking man stepped up just then and remarked, “I will look after the boy.”
With a “Muchas gracias” and an “Adios” to the boy, Florence hurried back to Jo Ann and Peggy, who were standing near by, still wondering what had happened.
CHAPTER XX
MORE TROUBLES
As soon as she drew near, Florence burst out excitedly, “Our car’s stolen!”
Jo Ann’s and Peggy’s eyes stretched to their widest, and their lower jaws dropped.
Jo Ann was the first to recover from the shock. “Our car’s stolen! Why, who could’ve—Oh, it must’ve been the smugglers!”
“I’m sure it was,” Florence replied. “The newsboy described one of them exactly—the taller one.”
Peggy gasped audibly. “That settles it, then.”
“He hit the boy—knocked him down—then they drove off in our car.”
“I don’t understand why the smuggler should’ve hit the boy,” put in Jo Ann bewilderedly. “What’d the boy have to do with the affair?”
Florence and Peggy exchanged glances, then Florence answered, “I hired the boy to watch our car while we went to the market. The lock on the car wouldn’t work. I’m to blame.”
“Oh—I’m beginning to see now.” The bewildered expression on Jo Ann’s face slipped aw
ay, and a look of determination took its place. “We’ve got to get our car back right away.” She drew her brows together into a little frowning line of concentration.
“Hadn’t we better report it to the police?” Peggy asked.
Jo Ann shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe later. I believe we’d better hunt up the mystery man and tell—” She halted abruptly. “But maybe he’s left the city already. I hope not. I want to tell him our car’s license number, so he can follow it—especially since the smugglers might’ve discarded their car entirely. But maybe one of them might drive ours and the other one their car. Come on. We’ll plan what to do as we walk.” She caught Florence with one hand and Peggy with the other.
“But where’re we going?” queried Peggy.
“Anywhere so we can get away from this crowd,” Florence whispered, eying the curious onlookers, who were waiting to see what the Americanas were going to do.
No sooner had the girls started off down the street than Florence remembered about the two little boys carrying their packages. She glanced around and saw them following close behind, the packages piled up in their arms almost as high as their chins. “Gracious!” she exclaimed. “We can’t have them following us everywhere. We’d better have them take the packages back to the market and leave them there for a while. Walk slowly, and I’ll catch up with you in a shake.”
She wheeled about, gave a quick order in Spanish to the boys, and then accompanied them to the market. After leaving the packages at the same booth where they had waited before and paying the boys a few centavos, she flew back to the girls.
“I’ve decided to go to the telephone exchange first,” Jo Ann announced to her quickly. “Where is it?”
“One block down, then turn to the right and go about a block and a half.”
“Let’s step on it.” Jo Ann strode off in what Peggy always called her “long-legged gallop,” which meant that both she and Florence had to take two or three steps to Jo Ann’s one.
Having caught up with Jo Ann by running, Florence asked, “Why—are you—going to the exchange?”
“’Cause I feel sure that he was going to do some long-distance phoning—and he started off in this direction.” With that she galloped off faster than ever.