The Rio Bravo Hotel, on the Sixteenth of September Street, is the Class A hotel of the town. With the street cars running in front of it, with the railroad track on the side of it, a rip-snorting bar under it, and the numerous parties going on inside of it, it would hardly be a place one would pick out to spend a quiet evening, or get a night's sleep--so when one goes to the Rio Bravo, one does not go for anything less than a party--or maybe to earn two dollars, but, of course, that takes but a matter of a few minutes--in Juarez, but as so many of the local population figure, why spend a dollar for a room when there are so many dark nooks and corners off the main street, and parked cars, whether your own or someone else's. The rooms in this establishment are furnished with only the bare necessities of a room--a bed, a chair, sometimes a rocker, sometimes with the rockers broken off, but still used as a chair, a rug on the floor, but never a big one, or a good one, and the bathroom, but never in the history of Juarez has the hotel water heater ever been known to work, never any toilet paper, but a pile of newspapers stacked in the corner, a mirror, a cracked one, but still usable, if you are not particular--and one seldom is--when one is on a party. It was twelve-thirty, the mad rush for the International bridge was over, the gates separating the two republics were closed until six o'clock in the morning. "Think we better stop and have some coffee before we go on up to the hotel, what do you think?" said Evelyn, as she and Pearl walked arm in arm unsteadily up the street. "If we gotta do a lot of drinking up there, it wouldn't be a bad idea," answered Pearl. "Here's as good a place as any." She took Evelyn's arm and turned her into a little Mexican cafe. They sat and sipped their coffee for a while, said nothing to each other, or to anyone else, as they were the only ones in the place except the little weezened black waiter, who could easily have been mistaken for a Negro, had it not been for his straight black hair. "All through?" asked Evelyn. "Yeah--let's get going and see what this joint of joy is going to be like." They left the place, and walked up the street toward the Rio Bravo. As they were crossing the railroad tracks next to the hotel, Evelyn stopped, "Good Lord, look coming--there's Ruby, Myrtle, Betty, Billie, Lillian, Virginia, Annie, Laura, Irene, Marie, and I don't know any of the others." "Well, we must not be late for the party, anyhow, seeing that they are just arriving." "Jees--there's probably twice that many already up there," answered Evelyn. "Where do they all come from?" "A party in this town does the same thing to these Hookers that cheese does to rats." "Let's wait a minute and let them go on in," said Pearl.