"Very fine for those who are used to it," Rick said. "But here's one Americano who is not going to follow Filipinos who follow old Spanish custom."
"Two Americanos," Scotty corrected. "We will follow old American custom of snack early, English custom of dinner at eight, and then Spanish custom of dinner at ten. That way we get plenty chow, hey?"
This exchange was for their own benefit. The clerk did not overhear because they were hurrying to their rooms to change.
It was not too early to get into dinner jackets. They hauled out what Scotty called their "penguin rigs" and got into them. In spite of feeling a little self-conscious, they looked brown and handsome in their white tropical jackets with maroon bow ties.
They found a table on the porch, looking out over Manila Bay and the great field called The Luneta. By turning a little Rick could see the traffic on Dewey Boulevard. Rick had never seen anything like it. Apparently Filipino drivers were all mad at something, and all under the impression that no other vehicles were on the road. Also, Filipino drivers obviously had wild affection for their horns. They tooted constantly.
"The life of a pedestrian must be less than ten minutes in this town," Scotty commented.
"Pedestrians are nothing but the raw material for accidents," Rick agreed. "Look at that!"
Among the busses, the cars, and the jeeps that ranged the boulevard trotted a half-dozen two-wheeled carriages drawn by tiny horses. These were the _calesas_ of bygone days, still competing with Manila's countless taxis for passengers.
"We should hire two and have a chariot race," Scotty suggested.
They had a sandwich and a cold drink made with _calamansi_, the pungent small Philippine limes, then walked across the boulevard to where the great wall of the old city rose high in the air. The wall was of huge stone blocks, rising about four times the boys' height into the air. It was perhaps twenty feet thick at the base.
Within the walls there had once been a city of a hundred thousand people, but it was there that in World War II the Japanese had chosen to make their last stand. Most of the people of the city had been wiped out, along with their Japanese captors, and of the ancient buildings only a cathedral remained. The area had been bulldozed flat in most places, and Quonset-type warehouses, called _bodegas_, had replaced the ruined Spanish buildings.