Part 12 (1/2)

General Laughter is rather slow, but he means business. Gomaldo is getting a big army together, and we may have to take the offensive to get ahead of him. Now I suppose we ought to turn in. How would you like to take a look at Havilla to-morrow and see the place where the naval battle was? We can get off duty in the afternoon. All right, let's meet at regimental headquarters at three.”

Cleary bade them good-night, and Sam, who was beginning to feel uncomfortable effects from his cigar, was quite ready to go to bed.

Sam's morning was occupied in familiarizing himself with the regimental routine in barracks. The building enclosed a large court which was used for drills and guard-mounting parade, and he did not have occasion to leave it until he went to join his friends at headquarters. Promptly at three o'clock the three men sallied forth. Sam was struck with the magnificence of the princ.i.p.al buildings, including the palace and the cathedral.

”It's a fine city, isn't it?” he said.

”Yes, and the women are not bad-looking,” said Cleary.

”The people don't quite look like savages,” said Sam.

”You can't judge of them by these,” said Foster. ”Wait till you meet some negritos in the country.”

”How large a part of the population are they?” said Sam.

”About one-fortieth, I think, but where principle is involved you can't go by numbers.”

”Of course not,” was Sam's reply. ”What building is that,” he added, ”with our flag over it and the nicely dressed young women in the windows?”

”That?” said Foster, laughing; ”oh, that's the Young Ladies' Home. We have to license the place. It's the only way to keep the army in condition. Why, we've got about fifty per cent infected now.”

”Really?” cried Sam. ”How our poor fellows are called upon to suffer for these ungrateful Cubapinos! Still they can feel that they are suffering for their country, too. That's a consolation.”

”There's more consolation than that,” said Foster, ”for we're spreading the thing like wildfire among the natives. We'll come out ahead.”

”I wish, tho, that they wouldn't fly Old Gory over the house,”

said Sam.

”There was some talk of taking it down, but you see it's the policy of the Administration never to haul down the flag when it has once been raised. It presents rather a problem, you see.”

”It may wear out in time,” said Sam, ”altho it looks painfully new.

What will they do then?”

”I confess I don't know,” said Foster. ”They'll cross the bridge when they reach it.”

”A good many of the shop signs are in English already,” remarked Sam.

”That's a good beginning.”

”Yes,” said Cleary. ”But they seem to be almost all saloons, that's queer.”

”So they are,” said Sam.

”There are some pretty good ones, too,” said Foster. ”Just stop in here for a moment and take a drink.”

They entered a drinking-place and found a bar planned on the familiar lines of home.

”Look at this list of our drinks,” said Foster proudly. ”Count 'em; there are eighty-two.”

Sam examined the list, which was printed and framed and hanging on the wall, and they each took a gla.s.s of beer, standing. There were about a dozen men in the place, most of them soldiers.