El Paso, city of one hundred thousand, not counting the nearby towns and villages. Noon, the sun maddening with its terrific heat, asphalt in the street so soft that your foot-print is left in it on crossing, only the business that has to be done is all that is going on. People move about lifelessly, clothes sticking to them. Mexicans, dressed in black, with the usual black shawl around their heads, as though it were the dead of winter, and not a bead of perspiration on them, with the only cooling place in the town being in the theatres that are ice-cooled. "My God--I'll die from this heat," said Pearl to herself, as she raised up in bed, with her night-gown sticking to her. "Jees, I wonder if I'll ever get used to it," she mused, as she climbed out of bed and raised the shade, and looked out on the sun-baked city. "I wonder what I'll do today to kill the time before I have to go over to Juarez tonight. I know, I'll put on my things and go and wake Ev up and have breakfast--then maybe she can suggest some place to go where it's cool." Pearl stepped out of her nightgown, looked at herself in the mirror. She was twenty-three, but she didn't look more than twenty, her beautiful white figure, with all the curves of youth reflected back at her, gave her a happy feeling, knowing that she didn't look anything like the rest of the girls that had been down on the border long, and promising herself that she would watch out and see that she would never--never be like them. The door-knob turned slowly, then the door was thrown wide open. In walked the big boy of the night before. "Oh, Heavens," screamed Pearl, "Wait a minute till I get something on," as she fled into the bathroom. "Never mind, sweetheart--I like you just as you are, that's why I came up at this hour; I thought I'd find you in bed, or just getting out of it." "Oh, please hand me something to put on," came the voice from the bathroom. "Hold your hand out to get it, then." Pearl opened the door to put her hand out, and as she did, he slid his foot into the opening. "Oh, please, don't come in--I haven't a thing on." "That's why I'm coming in," he answered, as he pushed the door open and caught her in his arms. "Oh, big boy, don't you know you shouldn't do this? What will you think of me?" "Baby, I love you--don't you know that?--I love you," he breathed hard, as he kissed her eyes, her neck, her shoulders, and gathered her up in his arms and walked toward the bed. "You will believe me--won't you--?" as he held her as if she were a small baby. "Oh, big boy, you shouldn't act like this. What would anyone think if they should see us like this?"