“I think you will find that we have as much of that as we are at all likely to need, for I always make a point of keeping an ample supply in stock,” answered Don Luis.
“Good!” answered I. “The next point to determine is the identity of your garrison. First, there is Don Esteban and his two sons; that makes three. Then there is you and myself—five. Will your six overseers fight, think you, Don Luis?”
“Oh yes, without a doubt,” answered Don Luis. “They are most excellent fellows, and devoted to me.”
“Then, so far, we muster eleven,” said I. “We want nineteen more fighters, and at least thirty good, steady non-fighters, men who can be depended upon to retain their coolness and do exactly as they are told during the confusion and excitement of a fiercely contested fight. Now, Don Luis, can you lay your hand upon forty-nine men of the kind I have indicated—men who are trustworthy enough to be admitted inside these walls at a moment when treachery on the part of any one of them would probably be fatal to us all?”
Don Luis flushed and looked almost angrily at me as I suggested the possibility of treachery on the part of any of his people.
“Really, Don Ricardo,” he exclaimed, “put as you put it, you almost make me tremble at the vastness of the responsibility that I am about to undertake. But you shall see. I will at once go down to the huts, choose my men, and bring them up here for your approval.” And with that shot at me he walked out at the back door and disappeared into the darkness, while Don Silvio, at his father’s request, went out to lead the horses round to the stables, and bring in the guns.