"There," said Peter, triumphantly; "he'll think we have finished it."
"I'll bring a pocket-pistol next time," said Tim, gloomily. "I'll be having the cholera with this stuff."
"Hush! here is Don Miguel."
Their host returned with a good supply of cigars, which proved to be more acceptable than the pulque. Maraquando expressed great surprise that Peter did not smoke.
"What does he say?" asked Peter, woefully ignorant of Spanish.
"That you ought to smoke."
Peter shook his head in disgust.
"Tell Don Miguel tobacco is slow poison."
Maraquando laughed when this was translated to him.
"It must be very slow, Señor," he said, smiling. "I have smoked for forty years, and yet the poison has not overtaken me as yet."