"Well," Manuel says, "I tell them you are the greatest American gangster that ever lives, and that they undoubtedly see you often in the movies, and they are in favor of your proposition one hundred percent. They are anxious to see how you operate," Manuel says, "because they wish to install similar methods in this country when things get settled down."
"Kindly omit referring to me as a gangster," I say. "It is a most uncouth word, and besides I never operate with a gang in my life." "Well, all right," Manuel says, "but it is a word they understand. However," he says, "the trouble here is they do not have much dinero, which is money. In fact, they say the best they can offer you to take care of the parties in the castle is two pesetas per head." "How much is two pesetas?" I ask.
"The last time I am here, it is about forty cents in your language," Manuel says.
Naturally, I am very indignant at this offer, because in my time I get as high as twenty thousand dollars for taking care of a case, and never less than five hundred, except once when I do a favor for one-fifty, but Manuel claims it is not such a bad offer as it sounds, as he says that at the moment two pesetas is by no means alfalfa in this Spain, especially as there are maybe four hundred heads in the castle, counting everything.
Manuel says it really is an exceptional offer as the characters behind the sandbags are anxious to conclude the siege because certain friends of the parties in the castle are arriving in a nearby town, and anyway, sitting behind these sandbags is getting most monotonous to one and all. Furthermore, Manuel says, when they are not sitting behind the sandbags, these characters are required to work every day digging a tunnel into the hill under the castle, and they regard this work as most enervating.
Manuel says the idea of the tunnel is to plant dynamite under the castle and blow it up.
"But you see," Manuel says, "digging is no work for proud souls such as Spaniards, so if you can think of some other way of taking care of these parties in the castle, it will be a great relief to my friends here."
"To the dickens with these skinflints," I say. "Let us go to the castle and see what the parties there will give us for taking care of these cheapskates behind the sandbags. Never," I say, "will I accept such a reduction."
Well, Manuel tells the mains behind the sandbags that I will take their offer under consideration, but that I am so favorably disposed toward it that I am going into the castle and examine the surroundings, and this pleases them no little, so Manuel ties his handkerchief on a stick and says this is a flag of truce and will get us into the castle safe and sound, and we set out.
Presently characters appear at the windows, and at holes in the walls of the castle, and Manuel holds a conversation with them in the Spanish language, and by and by they admit us to the castle yard, and one character with whiskers leads us into the building and down stone steps until we arrive in what seems to be a big basement far underground.
And in this basement I behold a very unusual scene to be sure. There are many characters present, male and female, also numerous small children, and they seem to be living in great confusion, but they are greatly interested in us when we appear, especially a tall, thin elderly character with white hair, and a white tash, and a white goatee, who seems to be a character of some authority.
In fact, Manuel says he is nobody but a character by the name of General Pedro Vega, and that this castle is his old family home, and that he is leader of these other characters in the basement.
I can see at once that Manuel and the general are old friends, because they make quite a fuss over meeting up in this manner, and then Manuel introduces me, and delivers another speech about me, explaining what a wonderful character I am. When he gets through, the general turns to me, and in very good English he speaks as follows:
"I am very glad to meet you, Seсor Asleep," he says. "I once live' in your country a couple of years," he says. "I live in your Miami, Florida."
Well, I am glad to find somebody who can talk English, so I can do my own negotiating, and in a few words I state my proposition to the general to take care of the characters behind the sandbags, and call for his bid on same.
"Alas," the general says, "money is something we do not hav.e. If you are offering to take care of the enemy at one centavo each," he says, "we still cannot pay. I am most regretful. It will be a big convenience to have you take care of the enemy, because we can then escape from this place and join our friends in a nearby city. Our food runs low," he says. "So does our ammunition. Some of our females and children are ill. The longer we remain here the worse it gets.
"If I do not know the caliber of the enemy," he says, "I will gladly surrender. But," he says, "we will then all be backed up against a wall and executed. It is better that we die here."
Well, being backed up against a wall strikes me as a most undesirable fate, to be sure, but of course it is nothing to me, and all I am thinking of is that this is a very peculiar country where nobody has any scratch, and it is commencing to remind me of home. And I am also thinking that the only thing I can do is to accept the two pesetas per head offered by the characters behind the sandbags when a very beautiful young Judy, with long black hair hanging down her back, approaches and speaks to me at some length in the Spanish language. Manuel says:
"She says," he says, " 'Oh, sir, if you can help us escape from this place you will earn my undying gratitude.' She says," Manuel says, " 'I am in love with a splendid young character by the name of Seсor Josй Valdez, who is waiting for me with our friends in the nearby town. We are to be married as soon as the cruel war is over,' she says," Manuel says. "It seems to be a most meritorious case," Manuel says.
Now naturally this statement touches my heart no little, because I am in love myself, and besides the young Judy begins weeping, and if there is one thing I cannot stand it is female tears, and in fact my sweet pea, Miss Anna Lark, can always make me do almost anything she wishes by breaking out crying. But of course business is business in this case, and I cannot let sentiment interfere, so I am about to bid one and all farewell when General Pedro Vega says:
"Wait!"
And with this he disappears into another part of the basement, but is back pretty soon with a small black tin box, and out of this box he takes a batch of papers, and hands them to me, and says:
"Here are the deeds to some property in your Miami, Florida," he says. "I pay much money for it in 1925. They tell me at the time I am lucky to get the property at the price, but," he says, "I will be honest with you. It is unimproved property, and all I ever get out of it so far is notices that taxes are due, which I always pay promptly. But now I fear I will never get back to your Miami, Florida, again, and if you will take care of enough of the enemy for us to escape, the deeds are yours. This is all I have to offer."
Well, I say I will take the deeds and study them over and let him know my answer as soon as possible, and then I retire with Manuel, but what I really study more than anything else is the matter of the beautiful young Judy who yearns for her sweet pea, and there is no doubt but what my studying of her is a point in favor of General Vega's proposition in my book, although I also do some strong studying of the fact that taking care of these characters in the castle is a task that will be very tough.
So after we leave the castle, I ask Manuel if he supposes there is a telegraph office in operation in town, and he says of course there is, or how can the newspaper scribes get their thrilling stories of the war out, so I get him to take me there, and I send a cablegram addressed to Mr. Lark, real estate, Miami, Florida, U.S.A., which reads as follows: