The Alcalde smiled genially and rubbed his fat palms together. “Muy bien,” he murmured.
Josè reflected. Then:
“But, Don Mario, with regard to Carmen, justice must be done, is it not so?”
“Cierto, Padre; and Padre Diego has the proofs––”
“Certainly; I accept your word for your conviction in the matter. But you will agree that there is something to be said for Rosendo. He has fed, clothed, and sheltered the girl for some eight years. Let us see, at the rate you charge your peones, say, fifty pesos a day, that would amount to––”
He took paper and pencil from the table and made a few figures.
“––to just fourteen hundred and sixty pesos oro,” he concluded. “This, then, is the amount now due Rosendo for the care of Diego’s child. You say he has made arrangements with you to care for her until he can send for her. Bien, we will deliver her to you for Diego, but only upon payment of the sum which I have just mentioned. Otherwise, how will Rosendo be reimbursed for the expense of her long maintenance?”
“Ca––ram––ba! Fourteen hundred and sixty pesos oro! Why––it is a fortune!” ejaculated the outwitted Alcalde, his eyes bulging over his puffy cheeks.
“And,” continued Josè calmly, “if we deliver the girl to you to-day, I will retain the thirty pesos oro which Rosendo owes you, and you will stand surety for the balance of the debt, fourteen hundred and thirty, in that case.”