The scene finally bored Manuel. He gazed into the street from the balconies. He watched players leave and new ones take their places. Toward nightfall he left for the Café de Lisboa.
Vidal arrived; they ate supper, and as they did so, Manuel expressed his doubts as to the game.
“That’s all right. You’ll pick it up soon enough,” assured Vidal. “Besides, the first few days I’ll give you a little card with information as to when you’re to play.”
“Fine. And the money?”
“Here’s enough for tomorrow. Fifty duros.”
“Is this good money?”
“Show it to anybody you please.”
“Then this is a scheme something like El Pastiri’s?”
“The very thing.”
The following afternoon, with the fifty duros that his cousin gave him and according to the instructions written upon a card, he played and won twenty duros, which he handed over to Vidal.