. . .Nan nodded. She felt much the same as she did the day they had first stepped foot on foreign soil, an unforgettable experience that they all had talked over again and again since that morning in May when the great boat had been moored to the dock and they had walked, one after the other, down the gangplank to set their feet in Scotland for the first time. The adventures that had followed had made their vacation the most exciting of their lives as those who have read “Nan Sherwood’s Summer Holidays” all agree. Now, as they all walked forward toward the offices of the Mexican officials, Nan wondered idly what further adventures were in store for her.

“Señorita, your bag, señorita.”

“Why don’t you answer when you are called?” Walker Jamieson dropped back into step beside Nan. “Lady,” he prodded Nan with his elbow, “the handsome young Mexican with the neat little mustache that is runnin. . . Read More