“Bien, compadre,” he quietly replied, “it will be as you say.”
Late that afternoon Juan returned from Bodega Central with a half ounce of quinine. He had made the trip with astonishing celerity, and had arrived at the riverine town just as a large steamer was docking. The purser supplied him with the drug, and he immediately started on his return.
The Alcalde set out to deliver the drug to Rosendo; but not finding him at home, looked in at the parish house. Josè and Carmen were deep in their studies.
“A thousand pardons, Señor Padre, but I have the medicine you ordered for Rosendo,” placing the small package upon the table.
“You may set it down against me, Don Mario,” said Josè.
“No!” exclaimed the Alcalde, “this must not be charged to the parish!”
“I said to me, amigo,” replied the priest firmly.
“It is the same thing, Padre!” blurted the petty merchant.
The priest’s anger began to rise, but he restrained it. “Padre Diego is no longer here, you must remember,” he said quietly.
“But the parish pays your debts; and it would not pay the full value of this and Juan’s trip,” was the coarse retort.