Sandy (advancing with dignity and something of his father's cold manner). He will answer for himself, when called for. (To DON JOSE.) You have asked for me, sir: may I inquire your business?
Concho. Eh! It is a trick,—a trick!
Don Jose (to CONCHO). Silence, sir! (To SANDY, with dignity.) I know not the meaning of this masquerade. I only know that you are NOT the gentleman hitherto known to me as the son of Alexander Morton. I am here, sir, to demand my rights as a man of property and a father. I have received this morning a check from the house of Morton & Son, for the amount of my deposit with them. So far—in view of this complication—it is well. Who knows? Bueno! But the signature of Morton & Son to the check is not in the handwriting I have known. Look at it, sir. (To SANDY, handing check.)
Sandy (examining check). It is my handwriting, sir, and was signed this morning. Has it been refused?
Don Jose. Pardon me, sir. It has not been presented. With this doubt in my mind, I preferred to submit it first to you.
Starbottle. A moment, a single moment, sir. While as a—er—gentleman and a man of honor, I—er—appreciate your motives, permit me to say, sir, as a lawyer, that your visit is premature. On the testimony of your own witness, the identification of Mr. Alexander Morton, jun., is—er—complete; he has admitted the signature as his own; you have not yet presented the check to the bank.
Don Jose. Pardon me, Col. Starbottle. It is not all. (To SANDY.) By a written agreement with Alexander Morton, sen., the hand of my daughter is promised to his son, who now stands before me, as my former servant, dismissed from my service for drunkenness.
Sandy. That agreement is revoked.
Don Jose. Revoked!
Sandy (handing paper). Cast your eyes over that paper. At least you will recognize THAT signature.