Arthur O. Friel, Twenty-Four Hours — Chapter 3 (1925)
“ So they would leave matters in his hands, and most assuredly they would keep away from that ugly one in the launch. The worthy Don Jaime, listening to their departure, felt that he had regained his grip. Once more he was the big man of the town, and he meant to remain so. Wherefore he turned on the young woman a heavy frown and on Pablo Benito a malevolent scowl. “Now, traitor!” he rumbled. “Tell the truth of this thing, or you shall curse the day of your birth! The country is at war, and you know the fate of rebels.” “Señor—Don Jaime—I am no traitor, no, no!” protested the scared Pablo. ”
