"How many rounds?"
"Five pans."
"Does any one know how to use it?"
"Me.
A little.
Not shoot too much.
Not want make noise here.
Not want use cartridges."
"I will look at it afterwards," Robert Jordan said.
"Have you hand grenades?"
Plenty.
"How many rounds per rifle?"
"Plenty."
"How many?"
"One hundred fifty.
More maybe."
"What about other people?"
"For what?"
"To have sufficient force to take the posts and cover the bridge While I am blowing it.
We should have double what we have."
"Take posts don't worry.
What time day?"
"Daylight."
"Don't worry."
"I could use twenty more men, to be sure," Robert Jordan said.
"Good ones do not exist.
You want undependables?"
"No.
How many good ones?"
"Maybe four."
"Why so few?"
"No trust."
"For horseholders?"
"Must trust much to be horseholders."
"I'd like ten more good men if I could get them."
"Four."
"Anselmo told me there were over a hundred here in these hills."
"No good."
"You said thirty," Robert Jordan said to Pilar.
"Thirty of a certain degree of dependability."
"What about the people of Elias?" Pilar shouted to Sordo.
He shook his head.
"No good."
"You can't get ten?" Robert Jordan asked.
Sordo looked at him with his flat, yellow eyes and shook his head.
"Four," he said and held up four fingers.
"Yours are good?" Robert Jordan asked, regretting it as he said it.
Sordo nodded.
"_Dentro de la gravedad_," he said in Spanish.
"Within the limits of the danger."