Chapter III: A New Discovery

Looking cool and dainty in their fluffy summer dresses, the girls came lightly down the stairs, ready for their drive around the city.

Florence smiled as she noticed the car waiting at the curb. It had been rubbed and polished till it shone, and Felipe, beaming like a child with a favorite toy, was leaning over, brushing a speck of dust off the hood.

Snatching off his hat on seeing the girls and grinning widely, he hastened to open the door of the car; then, standing very straight, he waited for them to be seated. His effort to uphold the dignity of his position as chauffeur was amusing. After tilting his hat—an old one of Dr. Blackwell’s—at a rakish angle, he proudly took his place at the wheel. Although the car was not as new and expensive as some they passed, he was sure none carried more beautiful passengers.

To the girls’ delight it was much cooler now; soft breezes were stirring, and the heat was vanishing with the sun, which was sinking behind the high range of mountains to the west of the city.

Slowly Felipe passed the cathedral and circled the attractive little plaza, while the girls gazed admiringly at the formal beds of brilliant blooming flowers and drank in the perfumed air, heavy with the fragrance of wild orange and oleander. Now and then through the foliage of the trees they could catch a glimpse of the bandstand in the center of the trees.

“They have band concerts two nights a week here,” Florence explained. “We’ll promenade awhile tomorrow night. I know you’ll enjoy it.”

“Promenade? What do you mean?” asked Peggy.

“Why, walk around the Plaza. On the nights when the band plays, the people of the better classes gather here and either promenade around the broad walk outside the square or sit on the benches to talk and listen to the music.”

“That sounds as if it’d be lots of fun,” approved Peggy.

At this moment the car came to a sudden stop. In attempting to turn off the broad drive around the Plaza into one of the old narrow streets of the business section, they were held up by the congested traffic. The enforced rest did not bother Felipe in the least. Calmly resting his elbows on the steering wheel, he waited for the way to become cleared.

“Why doesn’t he blow his horn?” asked Jo Ann. “Maybe that’d make them move.” She noticed, however, that of all the persons in the near-by cars held up in the traffic jam, not one seemed the least bit impatient.

“These people must have the patience of Job,” said Peggy. “If this were at home, you’d hear the horns blowing all down the line.”

“It takes more than a little thing like this to ruffle the slow, easy-going Mexican,” explained Florence. “He’s never in a hurry.”

In a short time they were on their way again, moving slowly through the narrow, busy streets. All classes of people and many nationalities were here, their different modes of dress interesting Peggy and Jo Ann, as did the stores with their queer signs and window displays. Although this was the busiest time of the day, they noticed that there was none of the bustling rush characteristic of American cities.

On through the less crowded streets Felipe steered the car into the residential section, passing several beautiful cathedrals and small parks, artistically laid out around the statue of some noted general or other war hero.

Near the outskirts of the city Jo Ann noticed with the keenest interest that there were all types of architecture, from plain stone structures built centuries ago and looking dull and drab, on to modern bungalows, gay with bright-tinted stucco and tiled roofs. Now and then she could catch glimpses of richly furnished rooms behind the iron bars of a window, and a flower-adorned courtyard or patio through an open door.

“I love the courtyards,” she remarked. “The great arches, the fountain in the center, and the tropical plants make them beautiful and restful-looking.”

“Yes, they are delightful,” agreed Florence. “Señor Rodriguez, the lawyer Daddy told you about, has one of the most beautiful patios in his house that I’ve ever seen. You’ll enjoy seeing it when we go over to see his library. I’ve wished many times that our house had a patio.”

“I’ve been wondering why it doesn’t, since all the other old houses have them. There’s something strange about the way your house is built. I believe when we solve the mystery of that queer little window, we’ll find out some interesting things about the rest of the house.”

“Is that the cathedral and the Plaza already?” asked Peggy in surprise just then. “How did we get here so soon? I’ve had such a wonderful time that it seems that we’ve only started.”

“May I ask a favor, Florence?” asked Jo Ann as they drove up before the house. “Let’s drive down that street back of your house before we go in.”

“Why—I—I don’t think——” began Florence stammeringly, then stopped, hardly knowing what to say.

“You said we couldn’t walk down there, didn’t you?—and I do so want to see it,” Jo Ann urged.

After talking to Felipe a few moments Florence answered with a half-apologetic smile, “Felipe says _mañana_ he’ll take us.”

“_Mañana?_” repeated Jo Ann. “Oh, you mean tomorrow?”

“Yes, it’s too late now.”

Jo Ann turned to Felipe, who was opening the door for them. “_Por favor_, Felipe,” she begged.

“Please, Felipe,” added Peggy quickly. She was not particularly interested in going down that back street, but it was so pleasant to be out at this time of the evening that she disliked the idea of going back into the gloomy house.

“He says he’ll take us if we insist,” translated Florence a moment later, after talking to Felipe again. “But really, girls, I feel that we shouldn’t go now. It’ll be better to go some morning.”

“I can’t see what difference it’d make when we go. Come on.” Jo Ann could not understand the Mexican’s way of putting off till tomorrow anything he did not care about doing. When she made up her mind to do a thing, she wanted to do it _right now_. “It’s silly to make so much fuss about such a simple thing,” she thought. “Why can’t you drive down a street when you want to?”

“Well—all right,” Florence reluctantly agreed at last.

Dusk was falling as they turned into the cobblestoned street back of the house. Slowly they made their way over the stones—century-old stones, worn smooth by the tread of many feet.

The farther they drove the more thickly populated the street became. Jo Ann and Peggy were shocked by the utter wretchedness and abject poverty which they saw on all sides. Dirty, half-clad peons with their empty baskets or trays were shuffling homeward after their day’s labor in the city; old crippled men and women, who had begged all day on the streets, were wearily dragging themselves to a place of shelter for the night. The small windowless adobe huts which lined each side of the street seemed overflowing with people. Women with babies in their arms squatted in the narrow doorways, while dogs, pigs, and goats wandered in and out of the houses at will, as much at home as the children. As for children, they were everywhere—dirty, naked, half-starved looking.

“I never imagined anything could be so terrible,” shuddered Peggy. “Did you, Jo?”

Jo Ann shook her head soberly. “I didn’t realize there was such poverty anywhere.”

A shout rose down the street: “_Americanas! Americanas!_”

Children appeared from every direction. They crowded around the car. Some of the larger ones climbed up on the running board and the fenders.

“_Centavo, mees! Centavo, mees_ [A penny, miss! A penny, miss]!” they cried, holding up dirty, scrawny little hands to them.

“Oh, Florence!” begged Jo Ann. “Let’s stop and give them something.”

“If we stopped now, we’d never be able to start again.” Florence explained quickly. “They’d climb all over us. Let’s throw some pennies out the windows.”

Hurriedly they emptied their purses of all the pennies they could find and threw them far into the street.

Such shouting and scrambling as followed! The children fought and knocked each other down in their effort to find the pennies, the tiniest ones crying because they could get nothing.

“It’s pitiful—heartrending—these children fighting over pennies as starved little animals over a bone,” thought Jo Ann. How was it possible for such things to exist, almost at your very door, and yet to be absolutely unseen and unknown? Was this really a part of the beautiful city they had enjoyed seeing such a short time ago?

Felipe could scarcely drive without hitting some of the children, yet he dared not stop. He had not wanted to bring the girls down here, as he felt sure Dr. Blackwell would object, but since they were here he must take care of them. While the children were busily searching for the scattered pennies, Felipe managed to escape the crowd. Quickly he drove to the end of the street and turned down an old, dry, rocky river bed, the car bumping and swaying as it sped along over the rough cobblestones.

“Florence!” shouted Jo Ann above the noise as she clung to the side of the car to keep from falling over on Florence. “I take back everything—I said—about you coming down—here alone. I understand—a lot that I thought foolish—before I saw this with my very own eyes.”

“We won’t have to go far—on this rough river bed,” Florence called back a moment later. “We’ll turn—at the next corner.”

“This is the—widest river bed I ever saw—to have so little water in it,” put in Peggy above the noise.

As the car turned into the next street Florence replied, “Sometimes when it rains hard in the mountains this river’s full of water.” She paused and added, “This is the street Mother and I’ve come down frequently to bring clothing for the poor families.”

Just then some ragged little children near by began to wave their hands and call out, “_La Señorita! La Señorita!_”

Florence smiled and waved back. “Those are some of the children we’ve given clothes. They look as if they need some more.”

“I wish we had some pennies to give to these children, too,” said Jo Ann. “Let’s come back here sometime and bring them something.”

In a few more minutes the adobe huts were left behind, and they began passing the plain stone houses of the middle class. With long-drawn sighs the girls settled back against the cushions, each thinking of the distressing poverty she had seen.

Suddenly down the street directly in front of them Jo Ann spied a tall, ungainly object against the high stone wall.

“What’s that, Florence?” she asked.

“That? Oh, that’s a scaffold the workmen are using in doing some repair work on a house.”

“But why don’t they use ladders?”

“They’d have a time to get a ladder long enough to reach the top of these houses. When they build them, they use big derricks to lift the heavy stones.”

“Then why do they build their houses so high?” asked Peggy.

“It makes them cool,” Florence answered as the car turned off the narrow street onto the pavement around the Plaza.

“Why, we’re almost home!” exclaimed Jo Ann in surprise. “Is it possible that this is part of your house?”

“Not exactly, but it’s all connected into one long building,” she replied, wondering at Jo Ann’s interest.

“Oh, then that’s the very thing!” Jo Ann cried, beaming.

“Whatever are you talking about, Jo?” asked Peggy.

“Why, how to get up on top of the house, of course! Don’t you see—I can climb up that scaffold to the top of the house; then it’ll be easy to let a rope down to the mysterious window. I’ve been wondering how I’d ever get on top of the house—it’s so high.”

“But, Jo, you can’t do that!” gasped Florence in alarm. “It’s too high, and anyway——”

“You’re not going to do it,” declared Peggy emphatically. “You might get hurt.”

“Don’t be silly,” scoffed Jo Ann. “I haven’t broken my neck yet.”

“No, but it isn’t your fault,” Peggy retorted.

“But, Jo, suppose someone should see you!” exclaimed Florence. “You must give up this foolish idea.”

“Would it be a disgrace if someone did see me?”

“Well, it isn’t considered proper here for a young lady to do anything on the street which would attract attention. You’d be a regular circus, climbing that scaffold. The street’d be jammed with people before you’d get halfway to the top.”

“I’ll promise not to give a free performance for the natives,” laughed Jo Ann. “But what’s to keep me from climbing up there when I wouldn’t have an audience? There are times, you know, when people sleep.”

“You couldn’t go out in the street at night—alone!” The very idea of such a thing was shocking to Florence. “That scaffold’s nothing but some rough poles fastened to the wall, and it’s so high it’d be dangerous—not at all like climbing a ladder.”

The car drew up before the house, and Florence and Peggy jumped out and hurried up the stairs without waiting for Felipe to open the door for them, but Jo Ann lingered a moment to thank him for granting her request. She knew he couldn’t understand a word she said, but from the broad grin which spread over his face she felt she had made her meaning clear to him.

The ride had meant much more to her than she had expected, since she had discovered a way of getting up on the roof. All she needed now was a length of rope so she could lower herself from the roof.

“It isn’t going to be hard to do,” she told herself as she went up the stairs. Of course, she would not do anything to disgrace Florence or Dr. Blackwell—they had been so kind to her—but give it up now? Never! Not with her goal almost in sight.