Florence. “They must’ve left before daylight.”

Peggy stepped inside the cave and kicked the pile of ashes with her foot. “There hasn’t been a fire here for hours—these ashes are as cold as charity.”

Jo Ann sighed as she set the basket down on the floor. “Those poor little children won’t get any of this food, after all. Isn’t that a shame?” She turned to Florence. “Do you suppose our coming here yesterday had anything to do with their leaving so suddenly?”

Florence shook her head. “No, I hardly think so. Now and then an Indian family spends the night here when they’re on their way farther up the mountain.”

“If they intended to leave so early, then why were those two boys gathering wood yesterday? They couldn’t have burned all of it in such a short time.”

Florence shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe I was right, after all, about the blue-eyed boy having been kidnaped,” put in Peggy.

Silently the three girls stared around the cave, each busy with her own thoughts.

A few minutes later Jo Ann reached down and picked up the basket. “Come on, let’s see if we can find which way they went. They couldn’t’ve got very far with the old grandmother and all those little children. Maybe we can overtake them and give them these things—then they’ll know we want to be friends.”

In the damp earth of the narrow path they could see distinctly the prints of bare feet and the small half-moons made by the donkey. They easily followed the trail till they came to the rocky cart road up which they had ridden the day before.

Here Jo Ann and Peggy dropped to their knees and began examining the tracks in the dust.

“Now which way do you suppose they went?” queried Jo Ann. “These tracks could have been made here yesterday by our donkeys and the peon driver.”

“The tracks seem to go in both directions, and they’re so indistinct it’d be impossible to follow a trail. You might as well give up, Jo.”

Florence smiled over at Jo Ann. “I believe the blue-eyed Mexican boy is one mystery you won’t be able to solve. You’ll have to use your detective ability in finding out what became of our milk and butter.” She hesitated a moment, then 

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