He drew forth a creased, yellowed, tattered, time-eaten paper.
"It is the land grant to Sebastian Jalisco," he said. "Please for me tear it up now. I have kept it here all the time. Please destroy it, Señor Frank."
Frank took the paper.
Instead of doing as he was urged, after glancing at it, Merry carefully refolded it and placed it in a leather pocketbook.
"I'll not destroy it, Felipe—at least, not now."
"Why not?"
"Some day you may change your mind."
"No, no!"
"Some day you may wish for it again."
"No, no!"