Pulquería“Best in the house!”
The white aguardiente whisky scorched its way down his throat, bringing tears to his eyes and starting a small bonfire in his empty middle.
aguardiente“Gimme another.”
He drank a second, and a third; then, as he turned to look about him, he discovered that the saloon was empty. At a little square window in the rear mud wall he could see four or five staring heads silhouetted against the evening sky. They immediately withdrew.
“Well, wha-at the hell here?” Whiskers wondered aloud. For the first time he began to notice something odd about his reception in San Juan. He pushed out into the better air of the plaza.
Sauntering, he began a general reconnaissance of this place to which he had chosen to come. As he checked over one after another of the things that
