"You do not believe me?"
"Sapristi! I know not for sure. Maybe I help, maybe I not. First I talk vis Señor Farnham, an' den I know vether you lie, or tell true. Vatever ees right I do."
"Then permit me to pass."
Miss Norvell took a resolute step forward, clasping her skirts closely to keep them from contact with the dusty scenery crowding the narrow passage. The jealous flame within the black eyes of the Mexican dimmed.
"You can no pass dat vay," she explained swiftly, touching the other's sleeve.
"Not through the stage door?"
The other shook her head doggedly.
"Eet is alvay locked, señorita."
Beth Norvell turned about in dismay, her eyes pleading, her breath quickening.
"You mean we are shut in here for the night? Is n't there any way leading out?"