Crossed Trails in MexicoMexican Mystery Stories #3
"Scrambled eggs--forty cents," she read. "Why, that's terrible!"

"But that's in Mexican money," laughed Florence. "That's only about thirteen cents in American."

Miss Prudence nodded. "O-oh! I see. I'd forgotten about that."

It was a delicious meal that the alert, polite waiter brought them, and even Miss Prudence, who at first was dubious about Mexican cookery's comparing favorably with New England's, praised it enthusiastically. Florence and Carlitos, though, enjoyed it most of all. 

"That chocolaté is the best I've had since I left Mexico last fall," Florence declared, while Carlitos was all smiles over the frijoles and chile con carne. 

When they left the restaurant, it was twilight, and they could hear the band in the little park, or plaza, as it was called, playing an old Mexican air. 

"Oh, let's go to the Plaza now and promenade!" exclaimed Peggy eagerly. "I adore walking around and around the square with the crowds."

"Yes, let's," agreed Florence. "You want to go, too, don't you, Jo Ann?"

"Of course. I may let you girls do the strolling around while I sit on one of the spectators' benches and----"

"Pooh!" scoffed Peggy. "You're no Methuselah. You'll have to promenade too. When you're in Mexico, do as the Mexicans do, my dear." Realizing that Miss Prudence had not given her consent to their plan, she began explaining how the Mexican girls walked slowly round and round the square, while the boys walked equally as slowly on the inside in the opposite direction, exchanging smiles and a few words now and then but not stopping. "And chaperons! I never saw so many. You won't have seen Mexico unless you see this scene."

Miss Prudence smiled. "That being the case, I'll have to go with you."

As soon as they had reached the Plaza, Miss Prudence and Carlitos found seats, and the three girls joined the laughing, dark-eyed señoritas, mingling with them and feeling a warm kinship--a oneness with them. Jo Ann, having been the one on the outside, found her attention centered on the spectators sitting or standing near the curb rather than on the boys on the inside of the Plaza.

Just as she reached one of the corners, she caught a sudden glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd in the background. Her heart leaped. There was 
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