Another of the Society's means of subsistence was cat-hunting. El
Bizco, who was endowed with no talent (his head, as Vidal said, was a
salted melon) had a really great gift for catching cats. All he needed
was a sack and a stick and he did famously. Every living cat in sight
was soon in his game-bag.
The members made no distinction between slender or consumptive cats,
or pregnant tabbies. Every puss that came along was devoured with the
same ravenous appetite. They would sell the skins in El Rastro; when
there were no ready funds, the innkeeper of the Handkerchief Corner
would let them have wine and bread on tick, and the Society would
indulge in a Sardanapalesque banquet....
One afternoon in August Vidal, who had dined in Las Ventas the
previous day with his girl, proposed to his comrades a scheme to rob
an abandoned house on the East Road.
The project was discussed in all seriousness, and on the afternoon of
the following day the three went out to look the territory over.
It was Sunday, there was a bull-fight; omnibuses and street cars,
packed with people, rolled along Alcala Street beside open hacks
occupied by harlots in Manila mantles and men of knavish mien.
Outside the bull-ring the throng was denser than ever; from the street
cars came pouring streams of people who ran for the entrance; the
ticket-speculators rushed upon them with a shout; amidst the black
multitude shone the white helmets of the mounted guards.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228