She had missed Lite in the last day or so; she had seemed
almost as far away from him as from the Lazy A. But all the while she
talked to him in whispers when he had wanted to discuss the Jean
picture, she was waiting, just waiting, for that Nogales picture.

When it came at last, Jean turned her head and watched Lite. And Lite
gave a real start and said something under his breath, and plucked at
her sleeve afterwards to attract her attention.

"Look--quick! That fellow standing there with his arms folded. Skin
me alive if it isn't Art Osgood!"

"Are you sure?" Jean studied him.

"Sure? Where're your eyes? Look at him! It sure ain't anybody else,
Jean. Now, what do you reckon he's doing down in Mexico?"

CHAPTER XXI

JEAN BELIEVES THAT SHE TAKES MATTERS INTO HER OWN HANDS

After all, Jean did not have to fight her way clear through "Warring
Mexico" and back again, in order to reach Nogales. She let Lite take
her to the snug little apartment which she was to share with Muriel and
her mother, and she fancied that she had been very crafty and very
natural in her manner all the while he was with her, and that Lite did
not dream of what she had in her mind to do. At any rate, she watched
him stalk away on his high-heeled riding-boots, and she thought that
his mind was perfectly at ease. (Jean, I fear, never will understand
Lite half as well as Lite has always understood Jean.)

She caught the next down-town car and went straight to the information
bureau of the Southern Pacific, established for the convenience of the
public and the sanity of employees who have something to do besides
answer foolish questions.

She found a young man there who was not averse to talking at length
with a young woman who was dressed trimly in a street suit of the
latest fashion, and who had almost entrancing, soft drawl to her voice
and a most fascinating way of looking at one. This young man appeared
to know a great deal, and to be almost eager to pass along his wisdom.
He knew all about Nogales, Mexico, for instance, and just what train
would next depart in that general direction, and how much it would
cost, and how long she would have to wait in Tucson for the once-a-day
train to Nogales, and when she might logically expect to arrive in that
squatty little town that might be said to be really and truly divided
against itself. Here the nice young man became facetious.

"Bible tells us a city divided against itself c