Mystery in Arizona Page 7

  “There can be only one answer,” Trixie said. “She must need the money Uncle Monty is paying her. But if her father is a famous silversmith and her mother makes exquisite Navaho jewelry, why should she need money? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s all beyond me,” Honey admitted. “Thinking about all the complicated characters at this ranch makes my head ache. I’ve decided not to think about any of them except my personal problem, Mrs. Astorbilt.” Honey clasped her slim hands. “Oh, Trixie, she’s bound to see right through me. I don’t really know how to behave like a maid.”

  Trixie laughed. “Of course you do. Your home has always been swarming with them. Ditto for Di since her father made a million dollars. I’m the one who’s going to behave so peculiarly that—”

  Di yelled to them then through the open doors of the adjoining bath: “Hey, you two! Maria just brought me our uniforms. Come and get ’em.”

  The “uniforms” turned out to be white blouses heavily embroidered with all the colors of the rainbow, and gay, multi-colored dirndl-type skirts.

  “The skirts,” Di said with a giggle, “are really glorified aprons. Maria says we don’t have to wear them except when we’re on duty. I’ve just about decided to wear mine over my jeans—I mean my Levi’s.” She pirouetted around her small room. “How do I look? It definitely gives the impression that I’m wearing old-fashioned pantaloons, don’t you agree? I mean, I could have just stepped out of a covered wagon, couldn’t I?”

  Honey, convulsed with laughter, unhooked Di’s skirt and snatched it away from her. “No. Definitely no. Pantaloons is the right word, since you did look like a buffoon. The women who came out West in covered wagons wore pantalets. Dainty ruffled things, Di, not Levi’s.”

  “What difference does it make?” Di demanded gaily. “We’re all going to behave like buffoons anyway. If I’m supposed to make Mr. Wellington laugh why shouldn’t I act like a clown?”

  “Because you’re far too pretty—” Honey began and then suddenly the door was flung open and standing there was a nurse in a stiffly starched uniform.

  “You girls,” she said sternly, “are making far too much noise at this hour of the morning. A great many of my patients do not sleep well. They need this hour of rest before breakfast. I will thank you if you will keep your voices down and confine your giggles to another hour of the day.” She closed the door with a sharp click.

  “Ooooh,” Trixie moaned quietly. “We don’t seem to be any more popular with Nurse Girard than we are with Foreman Howie.” For a fleeting second, Trixie wished she were back home where no one was ever scolded for laughing.

  Honey started to giggle but quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. “Let’s never do anything to make her or Miss Mall mad. They might quit and then we’d have those patients’ rooms to take care of.”

  This thought sobered them and they quickly but quietly donned their attractive uniforms.

  “They probably belonged to Maria’s sisters-in-law,” Di whispered. “It’s lucky that they’re the type of costume that fits practically anybody and everybody. You two look simply darling.”

  “And you,” Honey said softly, “look ravishingly beautiful as always. And now we’d better tiptoe over to the dining-room and set the tables.”

  When this chore was done they went on to the kitchen where Rosita and Maria were preparing breakfast. “For the help,” they said, smiling.

  “I’m glad I’m help,” said Trixie, drenching a golden-brown waffle with butter and maple syrup.

  The boys, wearing their “bullfighter” costumes, arrived while the girls were still eating.

  “Wow!” Mart cried out. “Don’t you gals look purty! Except Trixie, of course. She always looks odd in feminine garments.”

  Trixie glared at him. “You and your blond crew cut look pretty odd in those garments, in case you’re interested. I trust,” she added sarcastically, “that you had a pleasant moonlight ride last night and that the foreman now dotes upon each and every one of you.”

  “Truer words were never spoken,” said Mart, helping himself to a waffle. “Once dear old Howie realized that we know a thing or two about horses and are experts when it comes to cleaning the tack, he took us to his bosom.”

  “That’s a slight exaggeration,” Jim said, his green eyes twinkling. “But I’m sure you gals can easily win him over to your side. You can’t blame him for being allergic to dudes who insist upon riding when they know nothing about it. There are morning classes for beginners, but apparently many of the guests refuse to take lessons and yet think they should be allowed to go along on the afternoon rides.”

  “I wish,” said Trixie dubiously, “that I thought we could win our d.g.’s over to our side as easily as you think we can win over Foreman Howie.”

  “Your what?” Mart yelled. “Elucidate, old thing.”

  The breakfast bell chimed while Trixie was explaining about the difficult guests.

  “Now you must hurry,” Maria advised the girls soberly. “If you have not finished those three rooms by eight-fifteen the guests will return to them and may keep you there indefinitely. That will ruin your whole morning schedule and may mean that instead of riding in the afternoon you will have to finish your work.”

  She handed each of them a dust cloth and a dry mop and shooed them out of the door.

  It was cold outside and Trixie shivered, wailing, “But I don’t know where to go.” She stared longingly down at the corral, and the stables which flanked it on one side.

  “Just follow me,” said Di, hurrying ahead of them along the path. “In order to avoid the crowd around the entrance to the dining-room, we’ll enter the house from the east patio. Our special guests have rooms on the south side of the living-room.”

  Trixie brightened. “In that case they must live in cells as small as ours because the south wall of the living-room is practically nothing but a picture window.”

  Di nodded. “It shouldn’t take us ten minutes to make the beds and tidy those rooms. My one idea is to be gone before Mr. X. Wellington comes back. And I know Honey has no desire to meet Mrs. Astorbilt Sherman if she can avoid it.”

  Trixie snorted. “If you think I’m dying to meet Calamity Jane, you’ve got another think coming.”

  As they hurried into the living-room they could see through the glass door to the west patio where the guests waited for admittance to the dining-room.

  “They remind me of a herd of buffaloes,” said Trixie. “Almost anything could stampede them. I hope they do stampede and trample the boys underfoot.”

  Honey went off into gales of laughter. “Not that you’ve ever seen a herd of buffaloes or a stampede, but I agree with you about the boys. They’re certainly getting by with murder. We were dopes to let them do nothing but wait on the tables. I almost wish that Maria would quit. Then the boys would have to do the cooking.”

  “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.

  Chapter 10

  Petey’s “Day-Mare”

  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 s
winging 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.