CHAPTER II.
PEDRO THE BOASTER.
Sergeant Pedro Gonzales, a giant of a wine-guzzling soldier whose heart was as large as his capacity for liquor, was known as “Pedro the Boaster.” When there were military duties to be done he was to be found at his post in the presidio, but at other times one found him at the village posada, sitting before the big fireplace and remaking the world with words.
On this moonlight night, Sergeant Pedro Gonzales crossed the plaza with a corporal and a couple of soldiers, entered the inn, and called in a loud voice for the landlord to fetch wine and be quick about it. The sergeant had learned long since that the fat landlord held him in terror, and did he but act surly and displeased he received excellent service.
“Landlord, you are as fat as your wine is thin!” Sergeant Pedro declared, sprawling at one of the tables. “I have a suspicion now and then that you keep a special wineskin for me, and mix water with my drink.”
“Señor!” the landlord protested.
“We honest soldiers are stationed here to protect you from liars and thieves and dishonest travelers up and down El Camino Real, and you treat us like the dirt beneath your boots.”
“Señor! I have the greatest respect—”
“One of these fine days,” Gonzales interrupted, “there will be trouble. Some gentleman of the highway will approach you with an idea of robbery, and you’ll shriek for the soldiery. And then, fat one, I may remember the watered wine, and be busy elsewhere!”
“But I protest—” the landlord began.
“More wine!” the sergeant shouted. “Must I get out my blade and carve your wineskins—or your own skin? More wine of the best, and you’ll get your pay when I get mine, if it is an honest score you keep. If my friend, Don Diego Vega, was here—!”