Cuba -- History -- Revolution, 1895-1898 -- Fiction
Doctor Alvarado's dentist's chair faced a full-length window, one of
several which, after the Cuban fashion, opened directly upon the
sidewalk, rendering both the waiting-room and the office almost as
public as the street itself. Every one of these windows was wide open
when Johnnie arrived; but it seemed that the dentist knew what he was
about, for when his patient had taken his seat and he had begun an
examination of the troublesome tooth, he said, under his breath:
"I, too, am watched. Talk to me in English. When I press, thus, upon
your gum, you will know that some one is passing. Now then, what is the
meaning of your amazing message from Felipe?"
While Doctor Alvarado pretended to treat a perfectly sound molar,
Johnnie managed, despite frequent interruptions, to make known the
reason and circumstances of his presence.
"But there are no rebels around here," Alvarado told him. "You could
escape to the country, perhaps, but what then? Where would you go? How
would they know who you are?"
"That's what I want to find out."
The Cuban pondered. "You'll have to go to Puerto Principe," he said, at
length. "Our men are operating in that neighborhood, and my brother
Ignacio will know how to reach them. I'll give you a message to him,
similar to the one you brought me from Felipe." Then he smiled. "I've
just thought of the very thing. Years ago I lent him a book which I
particularly prized, and one of his children damaged it. I was furious.
I declared I would never lend him another, and I never have. Now then,
I'll give you that very volume; hand it to him and say that I asked you
to return it to him. I'd like to see his face when he receives it."
O'Reilly thanked him, promising to use every precaution in delivering
the message. The very care necessary in communicating between brother
and brother made him realize more clearly than hitherto that he was
among enemies.
The next morning he paid Carbajal's score and took the train to the
interior. In his bag was Tomas Alvarado's precious volume, and in the
same coach with him rode the Secret Service man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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