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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"The Bells of San Juan"

I hope you are. Men used to do that sort of
thing, but under existing laws . . ."
"Under existing laws men do a good many things in and about San Juan
which they shouldn't do. I have found out that there was a Caleb
Patten who was a young doctor; that there was a Charles Patten, his
brother, who was a young scamp; that they both lived in Baltimore a few
years ago; that from Baltimore they both went hastily no man knows
where. This gentleman whom we have with us might be either one of
them. . . . Here comes Ignacio. _Que hay_, Ignacio!"
"_Que hay_, Roderico?" responded Ignacio, coming to lean languidly
against the veranda post. He removed his hat elaborately, his liquid
eyes doing justice to Virginia's dainty charm. "_Buenos tardes,
senorita_," he greeted her.
"What is new, Ignacio?" queried Norton, "No bells for you to ring for
the last ten days! You grow fat in idleness, _amigo mio_."
Ignacio sighed and rolled his cigarette.
"What is new, you ask? No? _Bueno_, this is new!" He lifted his
eyes suddenly and they were sparkling as with suppressed excitement.
"The Devil himself has made a visit to San Juan. _Si, senor; si,
senorita_. It is so."
Virginia smiled; Norton gravely asked the explanation. Why should his
satanic majesty come to San Juan?
"Why? _Quien sabe_?" Ignacio shrugged all responsibility from his
lazy shoulders.


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