They established themselves in a large gloomy house, which likewise
belonged to the cacique of Moyahua. The previous occupants had already
left strong evidences in the patio, which had been converted into a
manure pile. The walls, once whitewashed, were now faded and cracked,
revealing the bare unbaked adobe; the floor had been torn up by the
hoofs of animals; the orchard was littered with rotted branches and
dead leaves. From the entrance one stumbled over broken bits of chairs
and other furniture covered with dirt.
By ten o'clock, Luis Cervantes yawned with boredom, said good night to
Blondie and War Paint, who were downing endless drinks on a bench in
the square, and made for the barracks. The drawing room was alone
furnished. As he entered, Demetrio, lying on the floor with his eyes
wide open, trying to count the beams, gazed at him.
"It's you, eh? What's new? Come on, sit down."
Luis Cervantes first went over to trim the candle, then drew up a chair
without a back, a coarse rag doing the duty of a wicker bottom. The
legs of the chair squeaked. War Paint's black horse snorted and whirled
its crupper in wide circles. Luis Cervantes sank into his seat.
"General, I wish to make my report. Here you have ..."
"Look here, man, I didn't really want this done, you know. Moyahua is
almost like my native town. They'll say this is why we've been
fighting!" Demetrio said, looking at the bulging sack of silver
Cervantes was passing to him. Cervantes left his seat to squat down by
Demetrio's side.
He stretched a blanket over the floor and into it poured the ten-peso
pieces, shining, burning gold.
"First of all, General, only you and I know about this.... Secondly,
you know well enough that if the sun shines, you should open the
window. It's shining in our faces now but what about tomorrow? You
should always look ahead. A bullet, a bolting horse, even a wretched
cold in the head, and then there are a widow and orphans left in
absolute want! ... The Government? Ha! Ha! ... Just go see Carranza or
Villa or any of the big chiefs and try and tell them about your
family.... If they answer with a kick you know where, they'll say
they're giving you a handful of jewels. And they're right; we did not
rise up in arms to make some Carranza or Villa President of our
Republic. No--we fought to defend the sacred rights of the people
against the tyranny of some vile cacique. And so, just as Villa or
Carranza aren't going to ask our consent to the payment they're getting
for the services they're rendering the country, we for our part don't
have to ask anybody's permission about anything either."
Demetrio half stood up, grasped a bottle that stood nearby, drained it,
then spat out the liquor, swelling out his cheeks.
"By God, my boy, you've certainly got the gift of gab!"
Luis felt dizzy, faint. The spattered beer seemed to intensify the
stench of the refuse on which they sat; a carpet of orange and banana
peels, fleshlike slices of watermelon, moldy masses of mangoes and
sugarcane, all mixed up with cornhusks from tamales and human offal.
Demetrio's calloused hands shuffled through the brilliant coins,
counting and counting. Recovering from his nausea, Luis Cervantes
pulled out a small box of Fallieres phosphate and poured forth rings,
brooches, pendants, and countless valuable jewels.
"Look here, General, if this mess doesn't blow over (and it doesn't
look as though it would), if the revolution keeps on, there's enough
here already for us to live on abroad quite comfortably."
Demetrio shook his bead.
"You wouldn't do that!"
"Why not? What are we staying on for? ... What cause are we defending
now?"
"That's something I can't explain, Tenderfoot. But I'm thinking it
wouldn't show much guts."
"Take your choice, General," said Luis Cervantes, pointing to the
jewels which he had set in a row.
"Oh, you keep it all.... Certainly! ... You know, I don't really care
for money at all. I'll tell you the truth! I'm the happiest man in the
world, so long as there's always something to drink and a nice little
wench that catches my eye...."
"Ha! Ha! You make the funniest jokes, General. Why do you stand for
that snake of a War Paint, then?"
"I'll tell you, Tenderfoot, I'm fed up with her. But I'm like that: I
just can't tell her so. I'm not brave enough to tell her to go plumb to
hell. That's the way I am, see? When I like a woman, I get plain silly;
and if she doesn't start something, I've not got the courage to do
anything myself." He sighed. "There's Camilla at the ranch for
instance.... Now, she's not much on looks, I know, but there's a woman
I'd like to have......."
"Well, General, we'll go and get her any day you like."
Demetrio winked maliciously.
"I promise you I'll do it."
"Are you sure? Do you really mean it? Look here, if you pull that off
for me, I'll give you the watch and chain you're hankering after."
Luis Cervantes' eyes shone. He took the phosphate box, heavy with its
contents, and stood up smiling.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Good night, General! Sleep well."