"Pooh, pooh, Señor Zapote!" replied Stoneheart, shrugging his shoulders; "You have quite mistaken your man. I have no more belief in your gratitude than in your good feelings towards me, and I have only refreshed your memory in this respect to induce you to reflect that, if I have hitherto condescended to pardon you, the amount of courtesy I could afford to expend on you is at length exhausted, and on the next occasion matters will end very differently between us."
"I perfectly understand your meaning, señor; but, please God, such an occasion, I am quite sure, will never present itself. I repeat, once for all, that I have given you my word, and, you know, an honest man sticks—"
"No more!" broke in Stoneheart. "I wish it may be so, for your own sake. However that may be, listen attentively."
"I am all ears, señor; I will not lose a word."
"Although I am still young, Señor Tonillo, I know one important truth not very creditable to humanity. If one wishes to attract a man, and insure his fidelity, one must not attempt to act upon his virtues, but make sure of him through his vices. You are more richly endowed with these last than most men I know."
The vaquero made a modest bow in acknowledgment of the compliment. "Señor," he said, "you cover me with confusion; such praise—"
"Is richly deserved," continued Stoneheart. "I have seen few men in possession of such a formidable assortment of vices as you, my friend. Yours are so many, that I was at a loss which to select. But among these vices are a few more prominent than the rest: for instance, your avarice has acquired a prodigious development; I am going to appeal to your avarice."
The vaquero's eyes sparkled with greed. "What do you want me to do?" said he.
"First, let me tell you what I will give you; after that, I will explain what I require."
The leering, cunning face of the bandit instantly grew serious; and, leaning his elbows on his knees, he stretched out his head to listen to Stoneheart's words.