"Negro Noche—shot Juan and Irene—don't waste a minute—we have got to get on the U. S. side somehow."
They all three ran down the stairs into the lobby, and out the front door, onto the street.
"Down the railroad tracks towards the bridge."
"We can't cross that bridge," said Mickey.
"I know it," answered Evelyn, "but it's dark down that way, and we can put our clothes on—come on," as they ran down the tracks.
They stopped in the deep darkness and put their clothes on.
"Now, listen to me," said Evelyn, "I have a plan. We will get back over on Lysol Lane, and go in one of those all-night bars, and I'll telephone to Tony, a taxi driver I know, where to meet us."
"Do you think it will work?" asked Pearl.
"It's got to," said Mickey, as they started.
"Now, you two stand around the corner—I'll stagger in this dump, as though nothing had happened, and use the phone."