complete-guide

ing as well, you might easily be admitted as a member
of some fraternal order; there are several here which
would bring you no inconsiderable social prestige.
Don't hesitate, Venancio, come at once and bring
your funds. I promise you we'll get rich in no time. My
best wishes to the General, to Anastasio, and the rest
of the boys.
Your affectionate friend,
Luis Cervantes
Venancio finished reading the letter for the hundredth
time and, sighing, repeated:
"Tenderfoot certainly knows how to pull the strings
all right!"
"What I can't get into my head," observed Anastasio
Montanez, "is why we keep on fighting. Didn't we finish
off this man Huerta and his Federation"
Neither the General nor Venancio answered; but the
same thought kept beating down on their dull brains like
a hammer on an anvil.
They ascended the steep hill, their heads bowed, pensive,
their horses walking at a slow gait. Stubbornly
restless, Anastasio made the same observation to other
groups; the soldiers laughed at his candor. If a man has
a rifle in his hands and a beltful of cartridges, surely he
should use them. That means fighting. Against whom
For whom That is scarcely a matter of importance.
The endless wavering column of dust moved up the
trail, a swirling ant heap of broad straw sombreros, dirty
khaki, faded blankets, and black horses. . . .
Not a man but was dying of thirst; no pool or stream
or well anywhere along the road. A wave of dust rose
from the white, wild sides of a small canyon, swayed
mistily on the hoary crest of huizache trees and the greenish
stumps of cactus. Like a jest, the flowers in the cac-