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قراءة كتاب The Mystery of Carlitos Mexican Mystery Stories #2

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The Mystery of Carlitos
Mexican Mystery Stories #2

The Mystery of Carlitos Mexican Mystery Stories #2

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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The Mystery of Carlitos
Jo Ann could see that the man and Carlitos were still crouched around the fire.

Jo Ann could see that the man and Carlitos were still crouched around the fire.

THE MYSTERY OF
CARLITOS


HELEN RANDOLPH



THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Akron, Ohio New York

Mexican Mystery Series
by Helen Randolph

The Secret of Casa Grande
The Mystery of Carlitos
Crossed Trails in Mexico

Copyright, MCMXXXVI
The Saalfield Publishing Company
Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Mysterious Blue-Eyed Boy 7
II. Neighbors in the Cave 19
III. An Unwelcome Visitor 33
IV. The Cave Family Disappears 44
V. Footprints 55
VI. A Mysterious Light 69
VII. The Charcoal Maker 86
VIII. Friends at Last 100
IX. “I’m Going to Solve the Mystery” 111
X. A Soiled Yellowed Envelope 122
XI. The Bear Returns 135
XII. Jo Ann’s Trophy 149
XIII. José’s Strange Story 161
XIV. The Piñata 171
XV. “Carlitos—Gone!” 181
XVI. On a Dangerous Trail 196
XVII. A Startling Cry 206
XVIII. Prisoners 218
XIX. A Daring Plan 229
XX. The New Hope Mine 239


CHAPTER I
THE MYSTERIOUS BLUE-EYED BOY

Jo Ann jerked the crude, hand-made chair off the oxcart and set it down in the shade of the thatched roof of the house.

“Your throne’s ready, Your Majesty,” she called over gaily to the pale, worn-looking Mrs. Blackwell whose daughter Florence was helping her off the burro.

“Whoever heard of a throne looking like that?” laughed the slender, hazel-eyed girl beside Jo Ann. “Wait a minute.” She spread a bright rainbow-hued Mexican blanket over the chair. “Now that looks more like a throne.”

Jo Ann nodded her dark curly bob. “You’re right, Peg—as usual.” She turned to Mrs. Blackwell. “I know you’re dead tired. That long automobile trip over the rough roads was bad enough, but the ride up the mountain on that poky donkey was worse yet.”

“Poky’s the word,” put in Florence, her blue eyes twinkling. “That burro, or donkey as you call it, is all Mexican—slow but sure.”

Just as she had finished speaking, the burro flapped his ears, threw back his head, and brayed such a knowing “heehaw” that the girls laughed merrily and even Mrs. Blackwell smiled broadly.

As Mrs. Blackwell dropped down in the chair, Jo Ann remarked to her, “No queen ever had a more beautiful kingdom to look upon from her throne than you have.”

“It’s marvelous!” exclaimed Peggy as all four gazed over the far-flung view stretching out before them: rugged, cloud-tipped mountain peaks, the deep valley covered with tropical growth, and a gleaming, silver waterfall to their right.

“Gracious!” broke in Florence finally. “We’ll never get the house straightened at this rate. And will you look at that driver! I believe he’s sound asleep. He hasn’t taken a single thing off the cart yet.”

As Jo Ann reluctantly turned away, she called over to Peggy, “We’ll have

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