Ramón began by winning a seat in the _Ayuntamiento_, and soon was an
outstanding figure there. The least objection to his views he regarded
as a personal insult; he would transfer debates in session out into the
streets and settle them there with threats and fisticuffs. His greatest
glory was to have his enemies say of him:

"Look out for that Ramón ... He's a tough proposition."

Along with all this combativeness, he sought to win friends by a lavish
hand that was his father's torment. He "did favors," assured a living,
that is, to every loafer and bully in town. He was ready to be "touched"
by anyone who could serve, in tavern and café, as advertising agent of
his rising fame.

And he rose rapidly, in fact. The old folks who had pushed him forward
with influence and counsel soon found themselves left far behind. In a
short time he had become _alcalde;_ his prestige outgrew the limits of
the city, spread over the whole district, and eventually reached the
capital of the province itself. He got able-bodied men exempted from
military service; he winked at corruption in the city councils that
backed him, although the perpetrators deserved to go to prison; he saw
to it that the constabulary was not too energetic in running down the
_roders_, the "wanderers," who, for some well-placed shot at election
time, would be forced to flee to the mountains. No one in the whole
country dared make a move without the previous consent of don Ramón,
whom his adherents always respectfully called their _quefe_, their
"chief."

Old Brull lived long enough to see Ramón reach the zenith of his fame.