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〃It didn't really say that；〃 Robert Jordan doubted。
〃Our glorious troops continue to advance without losing a foot of ground；〃 Karkov repeated in English。 〃It is in the communiqu椤！ will find it for you。〃
You could remember the men you knew who died in the fighting around Pozoblanco； but it was a joke at Gaylord's。
So that was the way it was at Gaylord's now。 Still there had not always been Gaylord's and if the situation was now one which produced such a thing as Gaylord's out of the survivors of the early days； he was glad to see Gaylord's and to know about it。 You are a long way from how you felt in the Sierra and at Carabanchel and at Usera； he thought。 You corrupt very easily； he thought。 But was it corruption or was it merely that you lost the na飗et椤hat you started with？ Would it not be the same in anything？ Who else kept that first chastity of mind about their work that young doctors； young priests； and young soldiers usually started with？ The priests certainly kept it； or they got out。 I suppose the Nazis keep it； he thought； and the Communists who have a severe enough selfdiscipline。 But look at Karkov。
He never tired of considering the case of Karkov。 The last time he had been at Gaylord's Karkov had been wonderful about a certain British economist who had spent much time in Spain。 Robert Jordan had read this man's writing for years and he had always respected him without knowing anything about him。 He had not cared very much for what this man had written about Spain。 It was too clear and simple and too open and shut and many of the statistics he knew were faked by wishful thinking。 But he thought you rarely cared for journalism written about a country you really knew about and he respected the man for his intentions。
Then he had seen the man； finally； on the afternoon when they had attacked at Carabanchel。They were sitting in the lee of the bull ring and there was shooting down the two streets and every one was nervous waiting for the attack。 A tank had been promised and it had not come up and Montero was sitting with his head in his hand saying； 〃The tank has not come。 The tank has not come。〃
It was a cold day and the yellow dust was blowing down the street and Montero had been hit in the left arm and the arm was stiffening。 〃We have to have a tank；〃 he said。 〃We must wait for the tank； but we cannot wait。〃 His wound was making him sound petulant。
Robert Jordan had gone back to look for the tank which Montero said he thought might have stopped behind the apartment building on the corner of the tram…line。 It was there all right。 But it was not a tank。 Spaniards called anything a tank in those days。 It was an old armored car。 The driver did not want to leave the angle of the apartment house and bring it up to the bull ring。 He was standing behind it with his arms folded against the metal of the car and his head in the leather…padded helmet on his arms。 He shook his head when Robert Jordan spoke to him and kept it pressed against his arms。 Then he turned his head without looking at Robert Jordan。
〃I have no orders to go there；〃 he said sullenly。
Robert Jordan had taken his pistol out of the holster and pushed the muzzle of the pistol against the leather coat of the armored car driver。
〃Here are your orders；〃 he had told him。 The man shook his head with the big padded…leather helmet like a football player's on it and said； 〃There is no ammunition for the machine gun。〃
〃We have ammunition at the bull ring；〃 Robert Jordan had told him。 〃Come on； let's go。 We will fill the belts there。 Come on。〃
〃There is no one to work the gun；〃 the driver said。
〃Where is he？ Where is your mate？〃
〃Dead；〃 the driver had said。 〃Inside there。〃
〃Get him out；〃 Robert Jordan had said。 〃Get him out of there。〃
〃I do not like to touch him；〃 the driver had said。 〃And he is bent over between the gun and the wheel and I cannot get past him。〃
〃Come on；〃 Robert Jordan had said。 〃We will get him out together。〃
He had banged his head as he climbed into the armored car and it had made a small cut over his eyebrow that bled down onto his face。 The dead man was heavy and so stiff you could not bend him and he had to hammer at his head to get it out from where it had wedged； face down； between his seat and the wheel。 Finally he got it up by pushing with his knee up under the dead man's head and then； pulling back on the man's waist now that the head was loose； he pulled the dead man out himself toward the door。
〃Give me a hand with him；〃 he had said to the driver。
〃I do not want to touch him；〃 the driver had said and Robert Jordan had seen that he was crying。 The tears ran straight down on each side of his nose on the powder…grimed slope of his face and his nose was running； too。
Standing beside the door he had swung the dead man out and the dead man fell onto the sidewalk beside the tram…line still in that hunched…over； doubled…up position。 He lay there； his face waxy gray against the cement sidewalk； his hands bent under him as they had been in the car。
〃Get in； God damn it；〃 Robert Jordan had said； motioning now with his pistol to the driver。 〃Get in there now。〃
Just then he had seen this man who had come out from the lee of the apartment house building。 He had on a long overcoat and he was bareheaded and his hair was gray； his cheekbones broad and his eyes were deep and set close together。 He had a package of Chesterfields in his hand and he took one out and handed it toward Robert Jordan who was pushing the driver into the armored car with his pistol。
〃Just a minute； Comrade；〃 he had said to Robert Jordan in Spanish。 〃Can you explain to me something about the fighting？〃
Robert Jordan took the cigarette and put it in the breast pocket of his blue mechanic jumper。 He had recognized this comrade from his pictures。 It was the British economist。
〃Go muck yourself；〃 he said in English and then； in Spanish； to the armored car driver。 〃Down there。 The bull ring。 See？〃 And he had pulled the heavy side door to with a slam and locked it and they had started down that long slope in the car and the bullets had commenced to hit against the car； sounding like pebbles tossed against an iron boiler。 Then when the machine gun opened on them； they were like sharp hammer tappings。 They had pulled up behind the shelter of the bull ring with the last October posters still pasted up beside the ticket window and the ammunition boxes knocked open and the comrades with the rifles； the grenades on their belts and in their pockets； waiting there in the lee and Montero had said； 〃Good。 Here is the tank。 Now we can attack。〃
Later that night when they had the last houses on the hill； he lay comfortable behind a brick wall with a hole knocked in the bricks for a loophole and looked across the beautiful level field of fire they had between them and the ridge the fascists had retired to and thought； with a comfort that was almost voluptuous； of the rise of the hill with the smashed villa that protected the left flank。 He had lain in a pile of straw in his sweat…soaked clothes and wound a blanket around him while he dried。 Lying there he thought of the economist and laughed； and then felt sorry he had been rude。 But at the moment； wh