"Shut up," he said.
He was nervous and he knew they all knew it. He was always nervous and irritable before action.
He moved from the wall to the table and began filling his pockets with grenades from one of the rawhide-covered panniers that leaned, open, against the table leg.
Robert Jordan squatted by the pannier beside him.
He reached into the pannier and picked out four grenades.
Three were the oval Mill bomb type, serrated, heavy iron with a spring level held down in position by a cotter pin with pulling rig attached.
"Where did these come from?" he asked Eladio.
"Those?
Those are from the Republic.
The old man brought them."
"How are they?"
"_Valen mas que pesan_," Eladio said.
"They are worth a fortune apiece."
"I brought those," Anselmo said.
"Sixty in one pack.
Ninety pounds, _Ingles_."
"Have you used those?" Robert Jordan asked Pilar.
"Que va have we used them?" the woman said.
"It was with those Pablo slew the post at Otero."
When she mentioned Pablo, Agustin started cursing.
Robert Jordan saw the look on Pilar's face in the firelight.
"Leave it," she said to Agustin sharply.
"It does no good to talk."
"Have they always exploded?"
Robert Jordan held the graypainted grenade in his hand, trying the bend of the cotter pin with his thumbnail.
"Always," Eladio said.
"There was not a dud in any of that lot we used."
"And how quickly?"
"In the distance one can throw it.
Quickly.
Quickly enough."
"And these?"
He held up a soup-tin-shaped bomb, with a tape wrapping around a wire loop.
"They are a garbage," Eladio told him.
"They blow. Yes. But it is all flash and no fragments."
"But do they always blow?"
"_Que va_, always," Pilar said.
"There is no always either with our munitions or theirs."
"But you said the other always blew."
"Not me," Pilar told him.
"You asked another, not me.
I have seen no _always_ in any of that stuff."
"They all blew," Eladio insisted.
"Speak the truth, woman."
"How do you know they all blew?" Pilar asked him.
"It was Pablo who threw them.
You killed no one at Otero."
"That son of the great whore," Agustin began.
"Leave it alone," Pilar said sharply.
Then she went on. "They are all much the same, _Ingles_.