"The señorita. Ees she at home?" the man asked again.
"She's down to the Boston Emporium cuttin' sandwiches an' packin' 'em,"
Keith said. "Who wants her?"
"I have a note for her from Señor Sanders."
Master Keith seized his opportunity promptly. "I'll take you down there."
The man brought his horse from the hitching-rack across the road. Side by side they walked downtown, the youngster talking excitedly about the fire, the Mexican either keeping silence or answering with a brief "Si, muchacho."
Into the Boston Emporium Keith raced ahead of the messenger. "Joy, Joy, a man wants to see you! From Dave!" he shouted.
Joyce flushed. Perhaps she would have preferred not to have her private business shouted out before a roomful of women. But she put a good face on it.
"A letter, señorita," the man said, presenting her with a note which he took from his pocket.
The note read: