all—everything." Florence ignored this remark and asked the woman, "How much did they say in the first place that they would pay you?" Between sobs, the woman replied and added, "Now they say they will give me only half of that." "Since they won't pay you what they had promised, then sell your pottery to me." Both men broke into a torrent of protests, waving their arms and shaking their heads violently. While they were absorbed in arguing with Florence, Jo Ann gradually edged over and looked into the back of the car, the bottom of which was filled with pottery packed in straw. After one hasty glance over her shoulder at the men, she reached over and pulled out a large _olla_ from the middle. How heavy it was! She peered into it, then thrust her hand inside. There was a package—a heavy one—at the bottom. Just then a furious voice rang out, "Put that _olla_ back in the car!" She wheeled about to see the shorter one of the men rushing angrily towards her. In another moment the man had grabbed the _olla_ out of Jo Ann's hand and had placed it back in its nest of straw in the car. "What are you doing?" he demanded sharply, edging between her and the car. "Leave these alone!" Jo Ann detected a note of alarm in his voice. "He's afraid I've discovered the contents of that _olla_," she thought. Determined to conceal her nervousness, she replied in as cool and controlled a voice as she could muster, "How much will you take for that _olla_?" The man shook his head. "No—no. It is not for sale." "I will give you fifty _centavos_ for it." "No—no. I cannot sell it." "Well, how about seventy-five _centavos_, then?" The merest shadow of a smile began to spread over the man's dark, unshaven face. Perhaps here was a chance for him to make a few extra _centavos_, and no one would be the wiser. He reached down in the car and after rummaging about for a few moments drew up another _olla_ similar to the one Jo Ann had picked up. "Here—I let you have it," he said, offering it to her. Jo Ann shook her
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