Fernandez answered for the dandy. "He will run again," he shouted, "and he will be elected. Fire can fight fire. Guns can fight guns."
"I have pantalones," Rios said. "I am a man of honor."
"Don Joaquin's constituents demand that he runs again," Fernandez said. He turned to the Ambassador, became his own translator. The ex-Senator nodded happily at every word Fernandez addressed to the Ambassador, as if by nodding he could bolster the words whose meaning he had to guess.
"How do you think things will go in Congress today?" Hall asked Fernandez.
"The same as every year, Señor Hall. Ceremonials, the speech, and then—quién sabe?"
Rumors rose from the table. Everyone had a choice rumor to air. Rios had it on good authority that Tabio's illness was merely a pretext; the President was afraid to face the Congress lest they force him to justify his wild socialistic measures which had put the national budget in such dire peril. Orville Smith informed the men at the table that Tabio's illness had taken a more serious turn. "In fact, I understand that Dr. Ansaldo has informed the government that he will refuse to operate on Tabio without the written permission of the Cabinet." Fernandez spoke of Ansaldo's skill as a surgeon.
"How about Gamburdo's speech, Joe?" the Ambassador said. "You promised to bring me an advance copy."
"I told my secretary to bring it to you as soon as it arrived," Fernandez answered. "It is very late in arriving today."
"Have you any idea of what he is going to say, Joe?"
"He is a very sound man," Fernandez said. "I am sure that the speech will be satisfactory."