annot stand," he
informed Jean quite gratuitously. "Well, maybe that's straight goods,
too. But Nogales is cut right through at the waist line with the
international boundary line. United States customhouse on one corner
of the street, Mexican customhouse in talking distance on the other
corner. Great place for holdups, that!" This was a joke, and Jean
smiled obligingly. "First the United States holds you up, and then the
Mexicans. You get it coming and going. Well, Nogales don't have to
stand. It squats. It's adobe mostly."

Jean was interested, and she did not discourage the nice young man.
She let him say all he could think of on the subject of Nogales and the
Federal troops stationed there, and on warring Mexico generally. When
she left him, she felt as if she knew a great deal about the end of her
journey. So she smiled and thanked the nice young man in that soft
drawl that lingered pleasantly in his memory, and went over to another
window and bought a ticket to Nogales. She moved farther along to
another window and secured a Pullman ticket which gave her lower five
in car four for her comfort.

With an impulse of wanting to let her Uncle Carl know that she was not
forgetting her mission, she sent him this laconic telegram:

Have located Art. Will bring him back with me.
JEAN.

After that, she went home and packed a suit-case and her six-shooter
and belt. She did not, after all, know just what might happen in
Nogales, Mexico, but she meant to bring back Art Osgood if he were to
be found alive; hence the six-shooter.

That evening she told Muriel that she was going to run away and have
her vacation--her "vacation" hunting down and capturing a murderer who
had taken refuge in the Mexican army!--and that she would write when
she knew just where she would stop. Then she went away alone in a taxi
to the depot, and started on her journey with a six-shooter jostling a
box of chocolates in her suit-case, and with her heart almost light
again, now that she was at last following a clue that promised
something at the other end.

It was all just as the nice young man had told her. Jean arrived in
Tucson, and she left on time, on the once-a-day train to Nogales.

Lite also arrived in Tucson on time, though Jean did not see him, since
he descended from the chair car with some caution just as she went into
the depot. He did not depart on time as it happened; he was th