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Page 30
"Suppose the old man we met yesterday lied to us.
Suppose there are fifty soldiers instead of twenty. Who
knows but he's a spy sent out by the Federals!"
"Ha, Tenderfoot, frightened already, eh?" Anastasio
Montanez mocked.
"Sure! Handling a rifle and messing about with band-
ages are two different things," Pancracio observed.
"Well, that's enough talk, I guess," said Meco. "All we
have to do is fight a dozen frightened rats."
"This fight won't convince our mothers that they gave
birth to men or whatever the hell you like. . . ." Manteca
added.
When they reached the outskirts of the town, Venancio
walked ahead and knocked at the door of a hut.
"Where's the soldiers' barracks?" he inquired of a man
who came out barefoot, a ragged serape covering his
body.
"Right there, just beyond the Plaza," he answered.
Since nobody knew where the city square was, Venan-
cio made him walk ahead to show the way. Trembling
with fear, the poor devil told them they were doing him
a terrible wrong.
"I'm just a poor day laborer, sir; I've got a wife and a
lot of kids."
"What the hell do you think I have, dogs?" Demetrio
scowled. "I've got kids too, see?"
Then he commanded:
"You men keep quiet. Not a sound out of you! And
walk down the middle of the street, single file."
The rectangular church cupola rose above the small
houses.
"Here, gentlemen; there's the Plaza beyond the church.
Just walk a bit further and there's the barracks."
He knelt down, then, imploring them to let him go, but
Pancracio, without pausing to reply, struck him across
the chest with his rifle and ordered him to proceed.
"How many soldiers are there?" Luis Cervantes asked.
"I don't want to lie to you, boss, but to tell you the
truth, yes, sir, to tell you God's truth, there's a lot of
them, a whole lot of 'em."
Luis Cervantes turned around to stare at Demetrio,
who feigned momentary deafness.
They were soon in the city square.
A loud volley of rifle shots rang out, deafening them.
Demetrio's horse reared, staggered on its hind legs, bent
its forelegs, and fell to the ground, kicking. The Owl
uttered a piercing cry and fell from his horse which
rushed madly to the center of the square.
Another volley: the guide threw up his arms and fell
on his back without a sound.
With all haste, Anastasio Montanez helped Demetrio
up behind him on his horse; the others retreated, seek-
ing shelter along the walls of the houses.
"Hey, men," said a workman sticking his head out of a
large door, "go for 'em through the back of the chapel.
They're all in there. Cut back through this street, then
turn to the left; you'll reach an alley. Keep on going ahead
until you hit the chapel."
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