He grinned.
"Will be bad, eh?"
"Possibly."
"Is the same to me," Sordo said simply and not boasting.
"Better four good than much bad.
In this war always much bad, very little good.
Every day fewer good.
And Pablo?" he looked at Pilar.
"As you know," Pilar said.
"Worse every day."
Sordo shrugged his shoulders.
"Take drink," Sordo said to Robert Jordan.
"I bring mine and four more.
Makes twelve.
Tonight we discuss all.
I have sixty sticks dynamite.
You want?"
"What per cent?"
"Don't know.
Common dynamite.
I bring."
"We'll blow the small bridge above with that," Robert Jordan said.
"That is fine.
You'll come down tonight?
Bring that, will you?
I've no orders for that but it should be blown."
"I come tonight.
Then hunt horses."
"What chance for horses?"
"Maybe.
Now eat."
Does he talk that way to every one? Robert Jordan thought. Or is that his idea of how to make foreigners understand?
"And where are we going to go when this is done?" Pilar shouted into Sordo's ear.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"All that must be arranged," the woman said.
"Of course," said Sordo.
"Why not?"
"It is bad enough," Pilar said.
"It must be planned very well."
"Yes, woman," Sordo said.
"What has thee worried?"
"Everything," Pilar shouted.
Sordo grinned at her.
"You've been going about with Pablo," he said.
So he does only speak that pidgin Spanish for foreigners, Robert Jordan thought.
Good.
I'm glad to hear him talking straight.
"Where do you think we should go?" Pilar asked.
"Where?"
"Yes, where?"