“Well, I am sure you have my permission, but let us hurry; the sun is getting quite high and we have a number of miles to go yet.”
They quickened their pace and were soon in town where they found a crowd of men and women gathered around a large building.
“That is where the American has his office,” said Gabriel, “he is now receiving the names of those who want to go. Come, let us enter.”
They walked in together and awaited their turn to book.
“Your name,” asked the clerk finally of Manuel.
“Manuel Gomes da Silva.”
“How many children have you?”
“Quartorze.”
“How many is that?” asked the “Americano.”
“Fourteen.”