ought you said you didn't know, and you wouldn't go back."

Art grinned sardonically. "I'll lie any time to help a friend," he
admitted frankly. "What I do draw the line at is lying to help some
cowardly cuss double-cross a man. Your father got the double-cross; I
don't stand for anything like that. Not a-tall!" He heaved a sigh of
nervous relaxation, for the last half hour had been keyed rather high
for them both, and pulled his hat down on his head.

"Say, Jean! Want to go across with me and meet the general? You can
make my talk a whole lot stronger by telling what you came for. I'll
get leave, all right, then. And you'll know for sure that I'm playing
straight. You see that two-story 'dobe about half-way down the
block,--the one with the Mexican flag over it?" He pointed. "There's
where he is. Want to go over?"

"Any objections to taking me along with you?" This was Lite, coming
nonchalantly toward them from the doorway. Lite was still perfectly
willing to let Jean manage this affair in her own way, but that did not
mean that he would not continue to watch over her. Lite was much like a
man who lets a small boy believe he is driving a skittish team all
alone. Jean believed that she was acting alone in this, as in
everything else. She had yet to learn that Lite had for three years
been always at hand, ready to take the lines if the team proved too
fractious for her.

Art turned and put out his hand. "Why, hello, Lite! Sure, you can
come along; glad to have you." He eyed Lite questioningly. "I'll
gamble you've heard all we've been talking about," he said. "That
would be you, all right! So you don't need any wising up. Come on; I
want to catch the chief before he goes off somewhere."

To see the three of them go down the stairs and out upon the street and
across it into Mexico,--which to Jean seemed very queer,--you would
never dream of the quest that had brought them together down here on
the border. Even Jean was smiling, in a tired, anxious way. She
walked close to Lite and never once asked him how he came to be there,
or why. She was glad that he was there. She was glad to shift the
whole matter to his broad shoulders now, and let him take the lead.

They had a real Mexican dinner in a queer little adobe place where Art
advised them quite seriously never to come alone. They had thick soup
with a strange flavor, and Art talked with the waiter in Mexican
dialect that made Jean glad indee