The next morning Sister Cecilia came in. She was very pleased and confident.
“I knew they couldn’t beat Our Lady,” she said. “They couldn’t. Cayetano’s better too. He’s much better. He’s going to have visitors. He can’t see them yet, but they are going to come and that will make him feel better and know he’s not forgotten by his own people. I went down and saw that O’Brien boy at Police Headquarters and told him that he’s got to send some Mexicans up to see poor Cayetano. He’s going to send some this afternoon. Then that poor man will feel better. It’s wicked the way no one has come to see him.”
That afternoon about five o’clock three Mexicans came into the room.
“Can one?” asked the biggest one, who had very thick lips and was quite fat.
“Why not?” Mr. Frazer answered. “Sit down, gentlemen. Will you take something?”
“Many thanks,” said the big one.
“Thanks,” said the darkest and smallest one.
“Thanks, no,” said the thin one. “It mounts to my head.” He tapped his head.
The nurse brought some glasses. “Please give them the bottle,” Frazer said. “It is from Red Lodge,” he explained.
“That of Red Lodge is the best,” said the big one. “Much better than that of Big Timber.”
“Clearly,” said the smallest one, “and costs more too.”
“In Red Lodge it is of all prices,” said the big one.
“How many tubes has the radio?” asked the one who did not drink.
“Seven.”
“Very beautiful,” he said. “What does it cost?”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Frazer said. “It is rented.”
“You gentlemen are friends of Cayetano?”
“No,” said the big one. “We are friends of he who wounded him.”
“We were sent here by the police,” the smallest one said.
