“You are so pretty and so disagreeable,” he said. “Are all Chicago ladies like you?”
“No. Some of them are not so pretty and are more agreeable,” replied the girl, nervously. “Please—you just missed that chuck-hole!”
“Why should I care? I do not want to go to Athens.”
“No, but you don’t want to go to Heaven, either, do you? Or—well, you know what I mean. I don’t know how much of a jar it would take to make this thing go off. A chuck-hole might do it.”
Pachuca, evidently depressed, relapsed into silence. It was growing colder and darker—would they never get there? However, she would not have been Polly had she kept still.
“Señor Pachuca, what did you mean by requisitioning goods? You aren’t working for the government, are you?”
“No.”
“Has another revolution broken out?”
“My dear young lady, Sonora has seceded and other states will follow. Mexico is about to throw off Carranza and his government. Is that clear?”
“Pretty clear—only I don’t understand why you should take our things.”