“This is the place we’re looking for, I guess,” said Jerry. He drove the machine up to the entrance and brought it to a stop. A dark-featured man, with a big scar down one side of his face, slouched to the door.
“Well?” he growled.
“We’d like to be ferried over to the other side,” spoke Jerry.
“Come to-morrow,” snarled the man. “We don’t work after five o’clock.”
“But we’d like very much to get over to-night,” went on Jerry. “And if it’s any extra trouble we’d be willing to pay for it.”
“That’s the way with you rich chaps that rides around in them horseless wagons,” went on the ferrymaster. “Ye think a man has got to be at yer beck an’ call all the while. I’ll take ye over, but it’ll cost ye ten dollars.”
“We’ll pay it,” said Jerry, for he observed a crowd of rough men gathering, whose looks he did not like, and he thought he and his friends would be better off on the other side of the stream, on Mexican territory.
“Must be in a bunch of hurry,” growled the man. “Ain’t tryin’ to git away from th’ law, be ye?”
“Not that we know of,” laughed Jerry.