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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
209
"No,
viejo,"
he
rumbled
tipsily,
"somos
de
la
estancia
del
Señor
Rubio.
Vaya."
The
old
man
seemed
to
mourn
that
they
did
not
come
from
the
sheep
ranches
about
Porvenir
Bay.
But
he
produced
a
bottle
with
a
shaking
hand,
still
beaming.
"Tengo
muchos
amigos
en
Porvenir,"
he
chirped
amiably.
"Y
questa
botella--"
"Démela,"
rumbled
Jamison.
He
reached
out
his
hand.
"No
mas
que
poquito!"
said
the
old
man,
beaming
but
anxious
as
Jamison
tilted
it
to
his
lips.
"Es
visky
de
gentes...."
He
beamed
upon
Bell,
and
Bell
swallowed
a
spoonful
and
seemed
to
swallow
vastly
more.
He
lay
back
lazily
while
Jamison
in
the
part
of
a
tipsy
sheepherder
bullied
the
old
man
amiably
and
eventually
chased
him
out.
"You're
amused?"
asked
Jamison
sardonically,
when
there
were
no
more
sounds
outside.
"Because
I
said
you
didn't
want
to
meet
the
young
senorita
who
loved
you
when
she
saw
you
downstairs?
Well,
Bell,
if
you
used
your
brain
you
didn't
swallow
any
of
that
stuff."
Bell
started
up.
Jamison
caught
him
by
the
shoulder.
"I'm
not
sure,"
he
said
sharply.
"Of
course
not.
But
it's
damned
funny
for
a
Spanish
hotel
keeper
to
give
something
for
nothing,
even
when
he
seemed
just
to
want
to
gossip
about
his
friends.
Here.
Drink
this
water.
It
looks
vile
enough
to
take
the
place
of
mustard...."
Next
morning
the
hotel
keeper
beamed
upon
them
both
as
they
went
out
of
the
place.
A
slatternly,
dark
haired
girl
who
leaned
on
his
shoulder
smiled
invitingly
at
Bell.
And
Bell,
in
his
character
of
a
loutish
sheepman
from
one
of
the
ranches
that
dot
the
shores
of
the
Strait,
grinned
awkwardly
back.
But
he
went
on
with
Jamison.
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