"All right. Mountain Rancheria. I'll go there ... all right."
"Come back here in an hour or so. I'll let you have some money."
"Give me enough for some guns. I need guns."
Pedro's face became eager; he tossed away the straw and moved close to Fernando's bed, his spurs rattling. Bending low, he smiled.
Fernando caught the rebel instinct in that grin. God, he thought, to be out of bed. "Guns," he said. "Why do you need guns? What will you do with guns?"
"Sell them, Don Fernando."
"Men are buying guns?"
"Yes. Now I can make money. Big money."
"Is General Matanzas in charge of the garrison?"
"He doesn't know people are buying guns.... He mustn't know."