The Mystery in Arizona

am afraid that at first they will behave like a herd of buffaloes and will not bring us a thing to eat. We shall have to be content with these rolls and the water Honey provided us with.”
    Trixie snorted. “Cells—bread and water. So this is Arizona in December!”
    Dimples appeared on both of Rosita’s brown cheeks. “It will not always seem like prison to you, Trixie. It is just that Maria and I felt that the boys should be left alone to make all of their mistakes this first evening. They are accustomed to serving a great many young people at camp, but it is different here. They must learn the difference the hard way. If we girls should offer to help them, they might turn in their uniforms and quit.”
    “Uniforms—” Trixie began, and then she saw what amounted to the answer to her question. Jim came through the swinging door expertly balancing a tray on the fingers and thumb of one hand. But this balancing feat was not what amazed Trixie. What made her blink rapidly was the fact that he was dressed in what appeared to be a bullfighter’s costume: a white silk shirt with flowing sleeves, a richly embroidered red velvet vest, and tight-fitting pants to match. He was followed closely by Brian and Mart, both of whom were wearing similar costumes and bearing aloft laden trays.
    Dark-haired Brian looked very handsome and rather Spanish, but redheaded Jim, and Mart with his close-cropped sandy hair, looked so funny that Trixie burst out laughing.
    “Sh-h,” Honey counseled, and Trixie clapped her hand tightly over her mouth. “Rosita’s right,” continued Honey in a whisper. “If we interfere in any way, they might quit, and then we’ll have to do everything.”
    Trixie immediately sobered. In a minute or two she admitted in an awed tone of voice, “Why, they’re really wonderful. You can see that the guests are quite impressed. How did they ever learn to be such experts?”
    “Maria,” Rosita replied, “has been rehearsing them. They catch on quickly, your brothers. Especially Jim and Mart. They like to act. I think they could have a career on the stage as comedians. Brian —he has natural grace and skill with his hands. He is the one who is going to become a doctor?”
    “That’s right,” Trixie said. She pointed with her little finger. “Look at your father and uncle, Di. They’re even more impressed than the guests.”
    Di sighed. “Dad’s so happy that the whole thing has been worked out. He’s leaving right after dinner to continue on to the Coast. In a way, I wish he wouldn’t. Suppose we girls are flops? If we are, Uncle Monty will have to let us stay on anyway. It’s going to be awfully embarrassing.”
    Honey giggled. “I’m the only one who should worry about being a flop, Di. You and Trixie have had plenty of experience doing household chores. But don’t forget that my mother never made a bed or washed a dish or dusted a table in her life. What little I learned about such chores was at camp and boarding school. I’m really no good at all.”
    The Indian girl turned slightly to smile at Honey. “I, too, learned what I know about housekeeping in boarding school... here in Tucson. My home on the reservation is not like this. My ancestors were great chiefs, so we live in a hogan as they did. Like the Orlandos, we feel that it is important to live up to the letter of old customs.”
    Honey smiled back at her. “Uncle Monty said that your father was a famous silversmith. You must have some truly beautiful jewelry, Rosita. Will you let us see some of it this evening?”
    Rosita shook her head, rather sadly, Trixie thought. “Your uncle is mistaken. I have no jewelry.” It was all Trixie could do to keep from crying out, “Why? What happened to it? You must have been wearing it this morning when you applied for the job here, otherwise Uncle Monty wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
    Was there some mystery connected with Rosita? Was it just a coincidence that she had arrived, badly in need of a job, such a short time after the Orlandos’ departure?
    Before she could stop herself, Trixie blurted, “Why did you leave school in the middle of your senior year, Rosita?”
    Honey kicked Trixie under the table and said tactfully, “Will you teach me what you learned in school about housekeeping, Rosita? I know how to dust and make beds but—”
    “That’s all you need to know,” the Indian girl replied. One slim hand moved restlessly up and down her bare arm, and Trixie could