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"
Salud
,
Camarada
,
"
he
said
to
the
man
with
the
carbine
and
smiled
.
"
Salud
,
"
the
other
said
,
grudgingly
.
Robert
Jordan
looked
at
the
man
’
s
heavy
,
beard
-
stubbled
face
.
It
was
almost
round
and
his
head
was
round
and
set
close
on
his
shoulders
.
His
eyes
were
small
and
set
too
wide
apart
and
his
ears
were
small
and
set
close
to
his
head
.
He
was
a
heavy
man
about
five
feet
ten
inches
tall
and
his
hands
and
feet
were
large
.
His
nose
had
been
broken
and
his
mouth
was
cut
at
one
corner
and
the
line
of
the
scar
across
the
upper
lip
and
lower
jaw
showed
through
the
growth
of
beard
over
his
face
.
The
old
man
nodded
his
head
at
this
man
and
smiled
.
"
He
is
the
boss
here
,
"
he
grinned
,
then
flexed
his
arms
as
though
to
make
the
muscles
stand
out
and
looked
at
the
man
with
the
carbine
in
a
half
-
mocking
admiration
.
"
A
very
strong
man
.
"
"
I
can
see
it
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
and
smiled
again
.
He
did
not
like
the
look
of
this
man
and
inside
himself
he
was
not
smiling
at
all
.
"
What
have
you
to
justify
your
identity
?
"
asked
the
man
with
the
carbine
.
Robert
Jordan
unpinned
a
safety
pin
that
ran
through
his
pocket
flap
and
took
a
folded
paper
out
of
the
left
breast
pocket
of
his
flannel
shirt
and
handed
it
to
the
man
,
who
opened
it
,
looked
at
it
doubtfully
and
turned
it
in
his
hands
.
So
he
cannot
read
,
Robert
Jordan
noted
.
"
Look
at
the
seal
,
"
he
said
.
The
old
man
pointed
to
the
seal
and
the
man
with
the
carbine
studied
it
,
turning
it
in
his
fingers
.
