"Oh no, my dear girl. That would not be possible. Nobody can get beyond San Cristoval, and no American is allowed to cross the Border. It is not safe to enter Mexico now on any pretext. Those greasers hate us worse than poison."
Janice tried to control herself. She had not wept; this dry-eyed suffering was a deal worse for the girl, however, than would have been a passion of tears.
"Where—where are you taking me?" she asked suddenly, laying her hand on Frank's arm.
"Why, weren't you on your way to the seminary?"
"But I can't go there now," she said. "Not to-day."
"Here's Elder Concannon's place, right ahead. We can turn there if you like."
At the moment the elder himself appeared from one of the barns, and seeing the car and recognizing its occupants he came out to the great gate to hail them.
"Aren't going right by without stopping, are ye?" he said genially.
Frank Bowman quite involuntarily brought the car to a stop. The moment he did so the elder saw Janice's face.
"What's the matter?" he asked quickly. "Has she been told? Does she know?"