Mystery in Arizona (10 page)

“That’s a thought,” said Trixie. “Let’s encourage Maria to join her in-laws. Nothing would make me happier than for the boys to spend the whole livelong day hovering over a hot stove.” She skidded to a stop beside a door which bore the nameplate:
MISS JANE BROWN
.

“See you later,” she said and went inside.

To her joy the room was indeed no larger than the one which she shared with Honey. Furthermore, Calamity Jane had made her own bed.

Well, that was cooperative of her
, Trixie reflected, as she dusted the table and bureau tops and ran the mop over the floor.
I think I’m going to like Calamity after all
.

She was about to leave, feeling very smug about this chore which had turned out to be so easy, when it suddenly dawned on her that perhaps the bed had not been slept in. And almost immediately she decided that it was Jane Brown whom she had heard crying softly out on the patio the night before.

“She probably cried herself to sleep out there,” Trixie said out loud without realizing it.

“I did, but how did you know?”

Trixie whirled around to face the door. A young lady who was not much taller than Honey was standing there. “I’m Jane Brown,” she said. “Who are you?”

“One of the new maids,” Trixie said cheerfully, and explained. “I didn’t mean to pry into your private life,” she finished, “but I couldn’t help being grateful because your bed was made and then all of a sudden I remembered that I’d heard someone crying out on the west patio last night. Was it you, Miss Brown?”

The young woman started to shake her head from left to right, then nodded, half smiling. “It was silly of me to give way to tears but I was—am so awfully disappointed in everything. But how much, much more
disappointed you kids must be! You came out here for your vacation, too, but instead of having fun, you’re working.” She frowned. “Instead of being so cheerful I should think you’d be crying your eyes out.”

Trixie laughed. “If all of the guests are as neat as you are the work won’t be hard. I’m used to doing harder chores every day at home. I have a kid brother whose room always looks as though a hurricane had hit it, and tidying it is one of my chores.”

Jane Brown’s small smile became a wistful grin. “I guess that’s what makes the difference. I’m an orphan, you see. For the past ten years—ever since I got out of high school—I’ve been working as a stenographer in a big Chicago firm. I always dreamed about spending some time at an Arizona ranch during the winter months. So I saved and saved and saved, and now at last here I am.” She burst into tears and threw herself down on the bed. “But am I having any fun? No, no,
no!
”

More than anything else in the world right then Trixie wished that Honey were in her shoes … Honey who was so sympathetic and tactful that without really thinking about it she would be sure to say the right thing.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Trixie pleaded helplessly. “Why aren’t you having a good time?”

“Never mind,” Miss Brown wailed. “There’s nothing anybody can do. Just go away and leave me alone. Go
away!
”

Trixie was only too glad to obey orders, but she left the room feeling both guilty and bewildered. Honey would have found out what was making Miss Brown so unhappy and would have at least said something to help cheer her up.

“Oh, why can’t I think of tactful things to say?” Trixie asked herself hopelessly. “And what
is
wrong with Miss Brown anyway? How can she
not
have fun at such a marvelous place?”

The unhappy guest was certainly another mystery.

After leaving Miss Brown, Trixie hurried across the living-room and outside to the path that led around and down to the cabins. With the exception of two which were called “family size,” all of the cabins on her list were tiny cottages and she tidied them very quickly. The larger ones took longer but at last she was through and started off around the pool toward the kitchen.

As she approached Maria’s small cabin she noticed that a little boy was playing out in front of it and guessed he must be Pedro, called Petey.

“Hi,” she greeted him, suddenly feeling homesick for Bobby. “I’ve got a little brother who is just about the same age as you.”

The dark-haired boy stared at her solemnly. “I’m in the first grade but I didn’t go to school today ’cause I got sort of a sniffle.” He sniffed. “It isn’t the cold kind of sniffle but Mommy is too dumb to know that. Does your brother ever get the crying kind of sniffle and get kept home from school on account of it?”

Trixie thought for a minute. “Bobby doesn’t cry
very much. Why have you been crying, Petey?”

He doubled up his grimy fists. “On account of my mommy is an ole meany. She wouldn’t let me go wif Granddaddy and all of ’em. So I’m gonna run away to where Granddaddy is. I’m not scared of that great big ole monkey.”

“What monkey?” Trixie asked curiously.

He pursed his lips. “Guess maybe you’d call him a g’rilla, he’s that big. I’m not talking about the little ones that sort of hop and dance around you. I’m talking about the great big ’normous one that’s way up high, you know, all ready to jump down on you and eat you all up.”

It was Trixie’s turn to stare. “What are you talking about? Did your granddaddy go someplace where there are lots of monkeys? A zoo, maybe?”

He shook his head. “Zoo! It’s sort of a cavelike place. But I’m not scared of that great big ole ape! I’m going to give him a great big swat just the way I did last year and then I’m going to eat
him
all up.”

Trixie frowned, torn between curiosity and the voice of her conscience which told her that she shouldn’t try to get information from this child about where the Orlandos had gone.

“You shouldn’t talk about running away, Petey,” she said at last, and rather reluctantly. “You’re not old
enough to go anywhere without your mother. I’m sure you know that.”

He sniffed again. “I go to school wifout my mother. Guess I can go where Granddaddy went wifout her. And I’m not scared of that great big ole green man wif the big red eyes and the horns. Last year I was sort of scared of him, but I’m a big boy now. I’m six, and when he goes dancing and hopping all around the cave I’m just gonna laugh and laugh.”

Trixie’s curiosity got the better of the small voice of her conscience. “What cave?”

Petey glared at her. “I just tole you. It’s sort of a cavelike place. It’s all dark and shadowy in the corners ’cause it’s not lighted 'cept with candles. And then all the horrible peoples come in and dance around, ’cept that they isn’t peoples. They is mostly sort of like animals.” He tucked his thumbs through the straps of his overalls. “I guess maybe my grandmommy is sort of scared of ’em, ’cause she didn’t want to go this year, but then Tio came and he and Granddaddy talked loud and then Grandmommy began to pack and she wanted to take me wif her but my mommy kept saying, ‘No, no, no!’ ”

Then, aware of the fact that he had been shouting, he clapped a small hand over his mouth and raced inside the cabin.

Trixie went into the kitchen more convinced than ever that the Orlandos had left for some mysterious reason. Where was the horrible cave Petey had described? Why would anyone want to go to such a place?

The answer must be that they hadn’t wanted to go but the man Petey called Tio must have threatened them. Who was Tio? He was of course the strange Mexican whom Uncle Monty had spoken about yesterday. But who was he? What power did he have over the Orlandos?

The other girls were already seated at the long table about to eat something that smelled delicious.

“How did you make out, Trix?” Honey asked. “We were beginning to get worried about you. Did you get held up by Calamity Jane?”

“Not for long,” Trixie said, “although she did come back to her room before I finished, and she is awfully unhappy about something. She was crying like anything when I left and it was she whom I heard crying out on the patio last night, Honey. I think she ought to be your special guest. I couldn’t think of a word to say when she suddenly burst into tears.”

“Maybe we should switch,” Honey said. “I got caught by Lady Astorbilt before I’d finished tidying her room, and honestly, she looks so funny in Levi’s that I
could hardly keep from laughing at her. She’s much too fat to wear them and she’s going to look like a fool if she appears in that costume at the square dance tomorrow night.”

“That’s what I’m going to wear at the square dance,” Trixie announced firmly.

“No, you’re not,” Honey replied. “We’re all three going to wear our new cotton dresses with the low necks and full skirts. And we’ll wear sweaters and skirts to
La Posada
this evening.”

“La Posada,”
Trixie interrupted. “I guess we can’t go, can we? We’ll be setting the tables for dinner when it starts.”

“News,” Di broke in. “Good news. I complained to Uncle Monty because I honestly feel the boys aren’t doing as much work as we are. So they set the tables from now on. In fact, that’s what they’re doing right now.”

Mart, in his waiter’s uniform, came in through the swinging door then. “A fine thing,” he greeted the girls sourly. “Braves doing squaws’ work.” Then he grinned. “Hope you are enjoying the meal we boys prepared.”

“Don’t be such a Hassayamp,” Trixie retorted. “You know perfectly well that it was Maria who made this divine rice dish.”

“But it is true,” Maria said from the other end of the kitchen. “The boys did do it all. I simply supervised.”

Mart patted his shoulders smugly. “There’s nothing to it, squaws. First you take an onion and a garlic, and when I say onion I mean about three pounds of ’em, just as when I say garlic I mean the whole cluster.”

“Ugh.” Honey giggled. “You must reek to high heaven. Don’t come near me.”

“And to think,” Di added, trying not to laugh, “that the boys set the tables with their own little fragrant hands. The plates and the flat silver must smell like—”

“That’s the point,” Mart interrupted airily. “If we boys are going to run this here chuck wagon we cawn’t and shawn’t set tables.”

“Who said you were going to do the cooking?” Di demanded. “Just because you sliced up a few onions and peppers and garlic cloves for Maria doesn’t mean that you’re cooks. Helping her prepare things like that is part of your job. A very easy part of it. I wish you had to make about a million beds every day the way we do and dust about a million—”

Maria interrupted softly. “It is a good thing that the boys are so handy in the kitchen. I could not get along without them. They learn fast and soon will be as good
a cook as I am.” She added in what was a whisper, “For that I am very grateful.”

Trixie stared at her thoughtfully. Maria was very, very serious. She seemed to have lost her sense of humor completely. And then Trixie remembered guiltily what Petey had said about twenty minutes ago. Should she warn Maria that he planned to run away? If she did, that would make her a great big tattletale, but if she didn’t, the little boy might wander off across the vast expanse of the desert and be lost for frightening hours—even days.

Trixie knew that although the desert at first glance seemed to be as flat as a pancake, it was actually pocketed with hollows in between rises where an utterly exhausted child could lie unseen until it was too late. There were all sorts of knolls and mounds and clumps of shrubby mesquite out on that vast expanse which could hide an unconscious child from the view of the searchers even though they might gallop back and forth within a few feet of him. And if by some chance his short fat legs managed to carry him into the foothills of the mountains …

Trixie shivered and dismissed the thought. Petey probably would start off along the driveway or he might decide to follow one of the trails, and in either case he
would be picked up by someone employed at the ranch before he got far. But suppose he didn’t? Suppose he set off across the desert at that hour in the afternoon when darkness seemed to descend so suddenly?

She quickly made up her mind; the risk was too great. Aloud she blurted, “Maria, did you know that Petey is talking about running away to join his grandfather and the others?”

Maria, midway between stove and sink, dropped the heavy iron skillet she was carrying. It was empty but it fell onto the tiled floor with a dull thud. The thud, Trixie felt sure, drowned out Maria’s exclamation of surprise and horror. Her mouth was formed into an O as she stooped quickly to grasp the handle of the frying pan.

“Pay no attention to Petey,” she said over one shoulder. “He is just a little boy who makes up stories to amuse himself when he is bored—on a day such as this when I had to keep him home from school because of a cold.”

Quickly she changed the subject. “Diana has not yet told you all of the good news. You are all going to
La Posada
this evening. The
patrón
—Mr. Wilson has arranged it. Most of the guests had previously made plans to dine in the city this evening anyway. Only three
will stay here. I am to fix a cold supper for them and Rosita will serve it in Mr. Wilson’s apartment.”