"Yes."
"Eet ees hard to say. First one then the other army enter San Cristoval. It iss said the Army of Deliverance is being driven back now into the hills. The government troops are between us and the mountains. But eet ees well to cry Viva Méjico to whomever the señor meets."
"Huh!" said Marty. "I've heard that ever since we crossed the Rio Grande."
This was an entirely different hostelry from any they had entered since arriving at the Border. Indeed, Janice was very doubtful of their safety. The woman was greedy and ugly; the man seemed ripe for almost any crime.
The latter's presence in the doorway did not disturb Marty much; but when the woman brought the tortillas and frijoles and some kind of fish stewed in oil with the hottest of hot peppers, Janice merely played with the food. Because of the baleful glance of the man's yellow eyes her appetite was gone. Maria too watched the guests in a silence that seemed to bode evil.
This town of San Cristoval, although much larger than La Guarda or La Gloria, was very different from either, it seemed. Not a sound came from the street. There was no music or dancing or the chattering of voices outside. It was as though San Cristoval had been smitten with a plague.
"Cricky! I bet these beans have got on your nerves, too, Janice," said Marty, seeing her fork idle.
She giggled faintly at that. "I never heard that beans troubled one's nerves," she said. "It's these people—staring at us so!"
"Yep. Eat-'em-up-Jack there in the doorway would almost turn your stomach," agreed Marty cheerfully. "And a bath would sure kill Maria."
The boy was good-naturedly oblivious of the sinister manner of the two Mexicans—or appeared to be; but Janice grew more and more troubled as time passed, and started at every movement Maria or the man made.