the ground,
smashed, the huge albums and the photographs torn into shreds, the
furniture, objets d'art and bric-a-brac broken. Quail held his breath,
his avid eyes scouring the room for booty.

Outside, in one corner of the patio, lost in dense clouds of
suffocating smoke, Manteca was boiling corn on the cob, feeding his
fire with books and paper that made the flames leap wildly through the
air.

"Hey!" Quail shouted. "Look what I found. A fine sweat-cover for my
mare."

With a swift pull he wrenched down a hanging, which fell over a
handsomely carved upright chair.

"Look, look at all these naked women!" Quail's little companion cried,
enchanted at a de luxe edition of Dante's Divine Comedy. "I like this;
I think I'll take it along."

She began to tear out the illustrations which pleased her most.

Demetrio crossed the room and sat down beside Luis Cervantes. He
ordered some beer, handed one bottle up to his secretary, downed his
own bottle at one gulp. Then, drowsily, he half closed his eyes, and
soon fell sound asleep.

"Hey!" a man called to Pancracio from the threshold. "When can I see
your general?"

"You can't see him. He's got a hangover this morning. What the hell do
you want?"

"I want to buy some of those books you're burning."

"I'll sell them to you myself."

"How much do you want for them?"

Pancracio frowned in bewilderment.

"Give me a nickel for those with pictures, see. I'll give you the rest
for nothing if you buy all those with pictures."

The man returned with a large basket to carry away the books....

"Come on, Demetrio, come on, you pig, get up! Look who's here! It's
Blondie. You don't know what a fine man he is!"

"I like you very much, General Macias, and I like the way you do
things. So if it's all right, I'd like very much to serve under you!"

"What's your rank?" Demetrio asked him.

"I'm a captain, General."

"All right, you can serve with me now. I'll make you major. How's that?"

Blondie was a round little fellow, with waxed mustache. When he
laughed, his blue eyes disappeared mischievously between his forehead
and his fat cheeks. He had been a waiter at "El Monico," in Chihuahua;
now he proudly wore three small brass bars, the insignia of his rank in
the Northern Division.

Blondie showered eulogy after eulogy on Demetrio and his men; this
proved sufficient reason for bringing out a fresh case of beer, which
was finished in short order.

Suddenly War Paint