In a few minutes, stones, clubs, and a few shots fell on the front of the store, to draw us—this was the other lads, not the soldiers. Gonzales made a quick move, fired half a dozen shots in that direction, and then came back.
A white handkerchief on a stick waved behind the wall.
"We wish to talk!" said a voice.
"Talk later, we're busy now!" says Pedro.
"We shall spare your lives, if you yield the store. We only wish to destroy this because it belongs to Holton, who supports the iniquitous, the government that now is. On our word of honor, you shall live, if you yield the store."
"Well," whispered Pedro to us, "what do you say?"
"Tell him the fortune-teller fooled him," says I.
"Tell him to go to hell," says Gonzales.
"It is a trick," says the other man.
"So think I," says Pedro. He called aloud: "We are large healthy men. To make us live is necessary we have more than your word of honor—do not play further, cowards that you are! The store you may have when we give it to you. We will kill you all—all!"