My duty to the company was clear. He noticed my start,
too, and there we were for a minute or so staring at each other as if
bewitched.
"'Get up on my horse behind me,' I told him. 'You shall put my
steam-launch to rights.'"
These are the words in which the worthy manager of the Maranon estate
related to me the coming of the supposed anarchist. He meant to keep
him--out of a sense of duty to the company--and the name he had given
him would prevent the fellow from obtaining employment anywhere in
Horta. The vaqueros of the estate, when they went on leave, spread it
all over the town. They did not know what an anarchist was, nor yet what
Barcelona meant. They called him Anarchisto de Barcelona, as if it were
his Christian name and surname. But the people in town had been reading
in their papers about the anarchists in Europe and were very much
impressed. Over the jocular addition of "de Barcelona" Mr. Harry
Gee chuckled with immense satisfaction. "That breed is particularly
murderous, isn't it? It makes the sawmills crowd still more afraid of
having anything to do with him--see?" he exulted, candidly.
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