“You’ve either said too much or too little.”
“I’ve said all that was necessary,” answered the soldier gruffly.
El Mojoso fell silent and urged on his donkey, while the soldiers and the unknown young gentleman followed him.
The sun came out from behind the mountain; in the distance they could see a series of low-lying hills and the Cross-roads Store in its little green clearing near the ravine.
When they reached the Store, El Mojoso dismounted from his donkey and began to pound furiously upon the door. He beat frantically with hands and feet.
“Open! Open!” he shouted impatiently.
“Who is it?” came from within.
“Me,” and El Mojoso ripped out a string of angry oaths.
A lock screeched, the door opened, and La Temeraria appeared half-dressed on the threshold.