"Well, you louse, do you mean to tell us you are going to make us wade that river again today?"
"If you want to get to the American side, you'll have to wade it."
"That's our good Americans for you," said Evelyn in disgust. "I'm damned if I know which is the worst, these Goddamn Mexicans or that lousy American scum that tries to be so damn important."
"Come on, Ev—we've waded it before—we might as well do it again—at that the cold water may wake us up."
They walked back to the Mexican foot of the bridge, and over the levee, holding to each other once more as they started again through the chill waters of the Rio Grande.
"Halt—who goes there?" came the challenge from the U. S. side, as they neared the bank.
"Who the Hell do you think?" asked Evelyn, as they climbed out of the water.
"Say, woman—ain't you got any more sense than to come across that river that way? We will have to hold you now for investigation."
"Oh, yeah? Brother, that's just too bad—we asked you to open those gates, and let us through, and you wouldn't do it, now if you want to really start some trouble, just try and hold us for wading across."
"Well, you will have to come up on the bridge, and do some tall explaining."