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 Among the young men gathered together there were optimists like Isagani and Sandoval, who saw the tiling already accomplished and talked of congratulations and praise from the government for the patriotism of the students—outbursts of optimism that led Juanito Pelaez to claim for himself a large part of the glory of founding the society.

All this was answered by the pessimist Pecson, a chubby youth with a wide, clownish grin, who spoke of outside influences, whether the Bishop A., the Padre B., or the Provincial C., had been consulted or not, whether or not they had advised that the whole association should be put in jail—a suggestion that made Juanito Pelaez so uneasy that he stammered out, “Carambas, don’t you drag me into—”

Sandoval, as a Peninsular and a liberal, became furious at this. “But pshaw!” he exclaimed, “that is holding a bad opinion of his Excellency! I know that he’s quite a friar-lover, but in such a matter as this he won’t let the friars interfere. Will you tell me, Pecson, on what you base your belief that the General has no judgment of his own?”

“I did n’t say that, Sandoval,” replied Pecson, grinning until he exposed his wisdom-tooth. “For me the General has his own judgment, that is, the judgment of all those within his reach. That’s plain!”

“You ’re dodging—cite me a fact, cite me a fact!” cried Sandoval. “Let’s get away from hollow arguments, from empty phrases, and get on the solid ground of facts,”—this with an elegant gesture. “Facts, gentlemen, facts! The rest is prejudice—I won’t call it filibusterism.”

Pecson smiled like one of the blessed as he retorted, “There comes the filibusterism. But can’t we enter into a disenssion without resorting to accusations?”

Sandoval protested in a little extemporaneous speech, again demanding facts.

“Well, not long ago there was a dispute between some private persons and certain friars, and the acting Governor