It was very close.

She could see the features of the Mexican soldiers lounging before the cantina over there; through the lighted window of the customhouse she could see a dark-faced officer bending over a littered desk.

The guard over there spoke to a friend, and she could hear the words he said.
Jean thought swiftly.

She must not let Art Osgood go back across that street.

She could cover him with her gun--Art knew how well she could use it!--and she would call for an American officer and have him arrested.