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This profound piece of reasoning meets with unanimous
assent. After a short silence while he meditates,
a colonel ventures his opinion:
"Everything is all right according to something, see
That is, everything has its circumstances, see God's own
truth is this: I have stolen, and if I say that everyone
here has done the trick, I'm not telling a lie, I reckon! "
"Hell, I stole a lot of them sewing machines in Mexico,"
exclaims a major. "I made more'n five hundred
pesos even though I sold them at fifty cents apiece!"
A toothless captain, with hair prematurely white, announces:
"I stole some horses in Zacatecas, all damn fine horses
they was, and then I says to myself, 'This is your own
little lottery, Pascual Mata,' I says. 'You won't have a
worry in all your life after this.' And the damned thing
about it was that General Limon took a fancy to the
horses too, and he stole them from me!"
"Of course--there's no use denying it, I've stolen too,"
Blondie confesses. "But ask any one of my partners
how much profit I've got. I'm a big spender and my
Purse is my friends' to have a good time on! I have
a better time if I drink myself senseless than I would
have sending money back home to the old woman!"
The subject of "I stole," though apparently inexhaustible,
ceases to hold the men's attention. Decks of cards
gradually appear on the seats, drawing generals and officers
as the light draws mosquitoes.
The excitement of gambling soon absorbs every interest,
the heat grows more and more intense. To breathe
is to inhale the air of barracks, prison, brothel, and
pigsty all in one.
And rising above the babble, from the car ahead ever
the shrill voice, "Gentlemen, a well-dressed young man
stole . . ."