They Brought Us Wine In
Tin Cans, Cigars, Borne In The Aprons And Mantillas Of Their Women-
Folk, And Demijohns Of Native Rum.
They were abject, trembling,
tearful.
They made one instantly forget that the moment before he
had been extremely frightened.
One of them spoke to me the few words of Spanish with which I had an
acquaintance. He told me he was the Alcalde, and that he begged to
surrender into my hands the town of Coamo. I led him instantly to
one side. I was afraid that if I did not take him up he would
surrender to Paget or to Jimmy. I bade him conduct me to his
official residence. He did so, and gave me the key to the cartel, a
staff of office of gold and ebony, and the flag of the town, which he
had hidden behind his writing-desk. It was a fine Spanish flag with
the coat of arms embroidered in gold. I decided that, with whatever
else I might part, that flag would always be mine, that the chance of
my again receiving the surrender of a town of five thousand people
was slender, and that this token would be wrapped around me in my
coffin. I accordingly hid it in my poncho and strapped it to my
saddle. Then I appointed a hotel-keeper, who spoke a little English,
as my official interpreter, and told the Alcalde that I was now
Military Governor, Mayor, and Chief of Police, and that I wanted the
seals of the town.
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