To save her life she could not help recalling the story of Little Red Riding Hood, nor could she rid herself of the odd sensation of having talked with the Wolf.

Though she did not, of course, carry the simile so far as to liken Johnny Jewel to the Grandmother.
She did not know what to do--a strange sensation for Mary V, I assure you.

Once she got as far as the door, meaning to go out on the porch and tell her dad that somebody was down at Sinkhole Camp pretending that he was Johnny Jewel when he was nothing of the sort, and that the boys had better go right straight down there and see what was the matter.
She did not get farther than the door, however, and for what would seem a very trifling reason; she did not want her dad to know that she had been trying to talk to Johnny over the 'phone.
She went back to the window.

_Who_ was down there pretending to be Johnny Jewel?
And what, in heaven's name, was he doing it for?
She remembered the Mexican who had ridden up that day and pretended that he wanted matches, and how he had returned to the camp almost as soon as she had left.

But the man who had talked with her was not a Mexican.