passed on, and at ten minutes past twelve everybody had gone back to
sleep again.

"In the afternoon the interpreter came around and smiled as he laid his
hand on the big red jar we usually kept ice-water in.

"'The ice-man didn't call to-day,' says I. 'What's the matter with
everything, Sancho?'

"'Ah, yes,' says the liver-colored linguist. 'They just tell me in
the town. Verree bad act that Señor O'Connor make fight with General
Tumbalo. Yes, general Tumbalo great soldier and big mans.'

"'What'll they do to Mr. O'Connor?' I asks.

"'I talk little while presently with the Juez de la Paz--what you call
Justice-with-the-peace,' says Sancho. 'He tell me it verree bad crime
that one Señor Americano try kill General Tumbalo. He say they keep
Señor O'Connor in jail six months; then have trial and shoot him with
guns. Verree sorree.'

"'How about this revolution that was to be pulled off?' I asks.

"'Oh,' says this Sancho, 'I think too hot weather for revolution.
Revolution better in winter-time. Maybe so next winter. Quien sabe?'

"'But the cannon went off,' says I. 'The signal was given.'

"'That big sound?' says Sancho, grinning. 'The boiler in ice factory he
blow up--BOOM! Wake everybody up from siesta. Verree sorree. No ice.