o pesos
cheaper. To be sure, it was a heavy burden; nobody could carry it for
more than a half-hour.

"I'll give you a quarter for it!" Quail said.

"Yours!" cried the owner, handing it over quickly, as though he feared
Quail might change his mind. Thus for the sum of twenty-five cents,
Quail was afforded the pleasure of taking it in his hands and throwing
it with all his might against the wall.

It struck with a crash. This gave the signal to all who carried any
cumbersome objects to get rid of them by smashing them against the
rocks. Objects of all sorts, crystal, china, faience, porcelain, flew
through the air. Heavy, plated mirrors, brass candlesticks, fragile,
delicate statues, Chinese vases, any object not readily convertible
into cash fell by the wayside in fragments.

Demetrio did not share the untoward exaltation. After all, they were
retreating defeated. He called Montanez and Pancracio aside and said:

"These fellows have no guts. It's not so hard to take a town. It's like
this. First, you open up, this way...." He sketched a vast gesture,
spreading his powerful arms. "Then you get close to them, like
this...." He brought his arms together, slowly. "Then slam! Bang!
Whack! Crash!" He beat his hands against his chest.

Anastasio and Pancracio, convinced by this simple, lucid explanation
answered:

"That's God's truth! They've no guts! That's the trouble with them!"

Demetrio's men camped in a corral.

"Do you remember Camilla?" Demetrio asked with a sigh as he settled on
his back on the manure pile where the rest were already stretched out.

"Camilla? What girl do you mean, Demetrio?"

"The girl that used to feed me up there at the ranch!"

Anastasio made a gesture implying: "I don't care a damn about the women
... Camilla or anyone else...."

"I've not forgotten," Demetrio went on, drawing on his cigarette. "Yes,
I was feeling like hell! I'd just finished drinking a glass of water.
God, but it was cool.... 'Don't you want any more?' she asked me. I was
half dead with fever ... and all the time I saw that glass of water,
blue ... so blue ... and I heard her little voice, 'Don't you want any
more?' That voice tinkled in my ears like a silver hurdy-gurdy! Well,
Pancracio, what about it? Shall we go back to the ranch?"

"Demetrio, we're friends, aren't we? Well then, listen. You may not
believe it, but I've had a lot of experience with women. Women! Christ,
they're all right for a while, granted!