THE MEXICAN GENERAL
"That is Quiroga, Senorita," said the boy.
"Who was that, a saint, Felipe?"
"I don't know," said the General. "Perhaps."
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"He looks more like a king than a saint with that rich costume
and black beard," said Maria.
The General went to his room to see to the proper unpacking
of his clothes. He found that the Loy they had sent from the office
had already opened his wardrobe trunk and was transferring the
suits to ordinary hangers. There! he knew what always happened
the moment his back was turned. "Not that way, not that way!"
he said striding up to him and snatching the hanger away. "That
makes the shoulders hag. Can't they furnish new hangers? Like
this." The boy watched him. He was only a child, half-grown,
with childish eyes, yellowish brown, dressed in a peasant shirt and
trousers tied close at the ankles. Probably he had never seen a suit
like this before. Imagine hanging a coat that way. It was the
English salmon tweed with
th e
long lapels. "Always remember to
do it as I've shown you."
"Si,
patron."
Someone rapped lightly at the door.
"Who is it?" asked the General.
"The clerk, Senor el General. I have brought the. registry
book."
"Oh. Very well, come in."
The clerk remained standing until the General whose eyes
were still on the boy said without turning around, "Sit down and
write."
"I am sorry to disturb you, Senor el General."
"After you are done with the suits put the shirts away over
there. Be sure you have clean paper in the drawers."
"Si,
patron."
The boys brown fingers were spotted deeper
brown from tobacco, but they seemed clean enough.
"He has not been here long?" he asked the clerk.
"A week, no more. Our more experienced boy is in town on
an errand. He ..."
"Never mind," said the General impatiently. "Write as fol–
lows: 'General
J.
and three nieces.' "
"Si, Senor el General." He wrote. "And the others?"
