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said lightly.
    Rocco did not inquire just what they had discovered, and the girls were glad. Suddenly the man bombarded them with questions.
    “Why this great interest in the parchment? Do you feel there is something wrong with it? Is your father sorry he bought the painting? Does he expect me to buy it back?”
    Mr. Rocco paused, but only long enough to catch his breath. “You young whippersnappers come barging into my home and hammer me with questions. What’s going on? I think I have a right to know.”
    By this time the man was very excited, and for a short time Nancy felt guilty about upsetting him. Then she thought of several things that had happened and her attitude changed. She said she was sorry if she and Junie had harassed the farm owner. They meant no harm. Their main interest was to learn the background of the parchment. This seemed to satisfy Mr. Rocco for the time being.
    Junie changed the subject and asked Rocco, “Were you ever married?”
    “No!” Rocco said quickly, and did not volunteer any more information. Instead, he stood up as if he were afraid Nancy or Junie might ask more questions he did not want to answer. He indicated that the visit was over.
    The girls walked to the front door, with Rocco following them stiffly. On the way home in the car, Junie said, “I wonder why Mr. Rocco was so unwilling to give us anything but the barest information about either the parchment or himself.”
    Nancy said she thought he was a man with many secrets, which he had no intention of divulging.
    Junie remarked, “I just think he’s an old grouch. How are we going to find out anything about the picture he brought from Italy if he won’t talk?”
    Nancy thought for a few seconds, then replied. “Let’s try to get the information in spite of him! We’ll leave the car on the road and hike across the fields until we meet one of his workmen. Maybe he’ll talk, and we can learn more about Rocco.”
    “His first name is Salvatore, by the way,” Junie said.
    It was several minutes before they saw a man hand hoeing in one of the vegetable fields. The girls went up to him and smiled.
    “Good morning,” Nancy said.
    The man remained silent, though he smiled at her. She wondered if he were deaf, so this time she shouted her “good morning.” Still there was no response and the farmer went on working.
    Junie walked close to the man and shouted at him, “Do you live here and work for Mr. Rocco?”
    The man shrugged. “No speak English,” he finally said.
    Nancy and Junie looked at each other and walked on. Across the field they saw another worker and headed in his direction. They put the same question to him and received the same answer, “No speak English!”
    Junie sighed. “No one around here seems to speak our language. We’re getting nowhere fast.”
    As the girls walked on Nancy suddenly spotted something and pointed. “I see a boy over there. Maybe we’ll have better luck with him.”
    They walked toward the lad, who appeared to be about ten years old. He was handsome with large brown eyes and black curly hair.
    The boy was seated on the ground in the shade of a large branch, and was holding a sketching pad and colored pencils. He was drawing a picture of the landscape spread before him. Against a tree nearby stood a hoe.
    “That’s very good, sonny,” Junie told him, looking closely at the sketch. “What is your name?”
    The little boy smiled but said nothing.
    “Do you speak English?” Nancy asked.
    The boy shook his head. “No English. Italian.”
    Suddenly the young artist jumped up. He hid his sketching pad and pencils under a sweater and grabbed the hoe. He moved off a little distance and began to work furiously. Nancy and Junie looked at him in surprise. Since they made no attempt to move, he pointed in the distance. They followed the direction of his finger. Mr. Rocco was coming toward them at a fast pace!
    “We’d better scoot,” Junie warned. “I doubt that Mr. Rocco would