Chapter XII: Florence’s Surprise

“Felipe certainly did look funny when you marched in with this big package in your arms,” laughed Peggy as she and Jo Ann entered their room. “He was probably wondering why you hadn’t taken him along to carry it for you.”

“So I noticed. His eyes were big as saucers, and he seemed to be trying to bore through the wrapping paper.” Jo Ann smiled complacently as she removed the paper from the package and took out a coil of rope twice as long as the one she had slipped into the house inside the parasol a few days before. “It seems strange, doesn’t it, to have to carry paper to the market with you to get your package wrapped, as I did this morning.”

Peggy nodded. “It’s a good thing you had that paper in your trunk. How are you going to fix that rope now that you have it—make a rope ladder?”

“No; I’m going to make loops in it as I did in the other piece. This hand-twisted _ixtle_ rope—that’s the Mexican name for it—is so wiry that I’d have a time trying to make a ladder out of it. Florence said the Aztecs made this same kind of rope before the Spanish came to this country. It’s so stiff we’ll have no trouble getting our feet into the loops, and it’ll be almost as easy to climb as a ladder.”

With deft fingers Jo Ann began tying the loops in the rough fiber rope.

“It seems to me you’ll have to make lots of loops so you can climb ’way down in that black hole—or shaft, as you call it,” Peggy observed.

“I know that. I’ll have to figure out the depth of the shaft so I’ll be sure to have enough rope to reach that far.”

When Florence came into the room a few minutes later, Jo Ann turned to her and asked, “Do you know how high the first floor of this building is?”

Florence shook her head. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Well, I’ll have to figure it out some way. I can’t afford to get ’way down there in that shaft and find out I haven’t enough rope.”

“Why don’t you talk about what _we’re_ going to do instead of _I_ all the time?” put in Peggy. “If you think you’re the only one who’s going to explore that shaft, you’re badly mistaken—I’m going too.”

Jo Ann half smiled and answered slowly, “Well—all right—if you aren’t afraid.”

“Afraid! Why should I be afraid, any more than you? I can go anywhere you can. I don’t go around hunting for trouble the way you do, but I don’t lose my head when I get in a tight place. You’ll probably need me, at any rate, if you’re going down in that shaft.”

“That’s true,” Jo Ann admitted.

“Just to prove how helpful I can be,” went on Peggy, “I’ll tell you how to find out the height of the first floor. Drop enough rope from the balcony to touch the street, then pull your rope up and measure it.”

“Good headwork,” approved Jo Ann, to Peggy’s delight. “I—no, we—will do that the first chance we have. Since you were so kind as to solve that problem, I’ll give you a much harder one to figure out. It’s this—how and to what are we going to fasten this rope so we can go down into the shaft? There’s nothing in that room to which we could fasten it.”

Peggy silently considered this puzzle for a few minutes, then said slowly, “I can’t answer that right now, but I’ll keep on thinking till I do.”

Florence, who had been unusually quiet up to now, spoke up encouragingly, “Jo’s always managed so far to do what seemed impossible, and she’ll be sure to find a way to fasten the rope, if you don’t.”

“I hope your prophecy comes true,” Jo Ann said, smiling over at Florence. “I believe I’d better go out and take a look at the back of the house before it gets dark and see if I can’t figure out a way right now. I’m ready to stop, anyway. This rough rope has almost blistered my hands. Don’t you girls want to go with me?”

“I do for one,” Peggy replied quickly. “I’m tired of the house—and it’s lovely outside now. There’s a gorgeous sunset.” She pointed out the window to the rose and gold clouds floating across the azure sky.

“Let’s all go,” agreed Florence.

With one accord the three girls hastened down the stairs.

“Let’s go on out to the Plaza and watch the sunset a few minutes before we go back of the house,” Peggy urged when they reached the door.

The girls nodded assent, and arm in arm they started walking slowly around the square, drinking in the beauty of the slow tropical sunset as they went.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight,” declared Jo Ann as she gazed at the towers of the ancient cathedral and the rugged mountains beyond, outlined against the western sky. “It looks as if golden flames were bursting from each peak and touching everything with gold.”

Just as she had finished speaking, a dark-robed figure moved from the arched gateway of the church and came slowly toward them.

“Isn’t that the _padre_ coming from the church, Florence?” Jo Ann asked. Nothing, no matter how beautiful, could keep her mind long from the one thing which had become an obsession with her. “Maybe he can give us some information about the church. Let’s ask him.”

“It won’t hurt to try, of course,” replied Florence, “but I hardly think it’ll do any good.”

They crossed the street and met the _padre_ on the corner.

“How do you do, Padre Ignacio,” said Florence in Spanish. “May we speak with you a moment?”

“May the Mother of Jesus bless you,” the _padre_ replied. As he passed her house several times a day, he knew Florence, although she did not belong to his church. “It will give me the greatest of pleasure to be of assistance to the señoritas.”

“Ask him if he knows anything about the early history of the church,” begged Jo Ann. “You know my Spanish isn’t anything to brag about.”

After introducing Peggy and Jo Ann, Florence carefully explained that these American girls were very much interested in his church on account of its great age, the type of architecture, and its connection with the early history of the city. “This señorita,” she said, placing her hand on Jo Ann’s arm, “is studying the history of our city and is eager to get all the information she can on the subject, and we would appreciate it very much if you could tell us anything that will be of assistance in making this study.”

The _padre_ listened attentively until Florence had finished, then shook his head and replied, “I am very sorry, my dear young ladies, that I cannot help you, but I have been in this part of the country only a few years—only since the change in government, when the priests and teachers of God were expelled. Ah, _Madre de Dios_, but that was bad, very bad!” he added sorrowfully, shaking his head. “It pains me greatly not to be able to help you but, though I feel very much honored that you are interested in my humble church, I know nothing about its early history.”

“We thank you very much, Padre,” replied Florence. “We shall come over to visit your church again. A _muy buenas tardes_ [a very good afternoon],” she added, and Peggy and Jo Ann echoed, “_buenas tardes_.”

“_Buenas tardes, señoritas._” With a bow the _padre_ continued on his way.

“Too bad we couldn’t get any help from him,” Jo Ann remarked after he had passed out of hearing distance. “It certainly is hard to find out anything about that old church. Let’s go now and look at the back of the house and try to figure out a way to fasten the rope.”

They crossed the street and stood gazing intently at the back wall of the house.

“It looks as if we’ll have to tie the rope to the iron bars of that window in the back room,” declared Jo Ann finally. “You see the top of it is almost on a level with that narrow opening that we’ve been calling the mysterious window.”

“But how’re you going to get the rope from that back window to the opening?” queried Florence.

“Oh, Jo thinks she’s a fly or a scorpion and can crawl across the wall,” cut in Peggy.

Ignoring Peggy’s remark, Jo Ann continued, “We’ll fasten the rope securely to the iron bars in that window; then I’ll drop down to the opening as I did before. I believe by sticking my fingers in the crevices of the rough plaster I can pull myself across the wall near enough to the window to catch hold of the rope.”

“It’s mighty high up there,” said Florence, “and that looks like a difficult thing to do.”

“Those bars are absolutely the only thing to which it can be fastened,” replied Jo Ann. “By standing in the loop on the end of the rope it won’t be as difficult as it looks.”

“Come on; it’s almost dark, and we can’t stand here on the street any longer,” said Florence. “Dad may be waiting for us to come to dinner, and he’ll be worried.”

“Listen! Why can’t we explore the mysterious shaft tonight?” Jo Ann exclaimed suddenly. “It won’t take long to tie the rest of the loops and test the knots. Everything else is ready—the flashlights and all.”

“Tonight!” gasped Florence, whether in consternation or surprise, Jo Ann could not decide.

“Yes, tonight. There’s a full moon—it’ll be as bright as day out, and I’m afraid if we wait something’ll happen to spoil the whole thing. I’d just die if I didn’t get to carry this out.”

“But why at night?” asked Peggy as they climbed the stairs.

“Well, why not?” returned Jo Ann. “It won’t be any darker in that shaft at night than in the daytime. You couldn’t see your hand before your face down there right in the middle of the day. We’ll carry our flashlights. I got some more batteries and an extra globe for the one I dropped. I thought we might need an extra one—that is, if that flashlight isn’t smashed all to pieces.”

“I wish I could go too,” said Florence tentatively.

Jo Ann and Peggy exchanged swift glances, but neither offered one word of encouragement to Florence.

Surprised at this request and not knowing how to answer it, Jo Ann and Peggy were silent as they sat on the balcony waiting the call to dinner. Lights like fireflies flashed here and there as darkness settled over the city, and a slight breeze, heavy with the scent of orange blossoms, stirred the trees across the way.

Florence finally broke the silence. “Can’t I go with you and Peggy, Jo Ann? I’d be careful.”

Jo Ann and Peggy were thankful at that moment for the darkness. Florence must not see the look of dismay on their faces. How could they refuse to let her go with them when it was her house?—and yet both felt that they dared not.

“Peggy, ask her to let me go,” Florence begged when Jo Ann did not answer.

“Florence—you see,” began Jo Ann slowly, “it’ll be rather dangerous, and your father’d never forgive us if anything should happen to you.”

“We’ve had lots more experience climbing than you have,” added Peggy.

“I know, but I can climb that rope,” Florence put in coaxingly. “I’ve tried it.”

“Why, Florence, you shouldn’t have tried it alone!” exclaimed Jo Ann. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want you to know till I found out whether I could do it. I’ve wanted so much to do the things you girls do, but I knew it wouldn’t be safe to go down in that shaft without some practice climbing a rope. I feel sure I can climb down there now.”

“I can’t picture you as a tomboy climbing on top of the house,” put in Peggy, smiling.

“And here I’ve been thinking all the time that you were terribly shocked at our behavior,” added Jo Ann.

Florence shook her head. “Not shocked—just envious. I’ve been practicing going up and down that rope every morning before you girls were out of bed. I can do it easily now. You know last summer at camp I got so I could climb mountains as well as the rest of the girls, after I’d had a little experience.”

“You’re a plucky little rascal,” praised Jo Ann. “If she wants to go with us that badly, we’ll have to let her go, won’t we, Peggy?”

Peggy nodded an emphatic assent.