"Now, Roblado," asked the Comandante, "what is the other string to my
bow?"
"Can't you guess, my dear colonel?"
"Not exactly," replied Vizcarra, though he well knew that he could. It
was not long since the other string had been before his mind. He had
even thought of it upon the day of his first defeat, and while his anger
was hot and revengeful. And since then, too--often, often. His
question was quite superfluous, for he well knew Roblado's answer would
be "force."