"Why did you let them?" Demetrio asked indolently.

The man persisted, lamenting and weeping. Luis Cer-
vantes was about to throw him out with an insult. But
Camilla intervened.

"Come on, Demetrio, don't be harsh, give him an order
to get his corn back."

Luis Cervantes was obliged to obey; he scrawled a few
lines to which Demetrio appended an illegible scratch.

"May God repay you, my child! God will lead you to
heaven that you may enjoy his glory. Ten bushels of corn
are barely enough for this year's food!" the man cried,
weeping for gratitude. Then he took the paper, kissed
everybody's hand, and withdrew.



XII


They had almost reached Cuquio, when Anastasio
Montanez rode up to Demetrio: "Listen, Compadre, I
almost forgot to tell you. . . . You ought to have seen
the wonderful joke that man Blondie played. You know
what he did with the old man who came to complain
about the corn we'd taken away for horses? Well, the
old man took the paper and went to the barracks. 'Right