Don Sebastian looked at him in amazement.
"Why so?" he said.
"Because I should rob you."
"Hum! That is my business."
"That is possible, general; but it is not mine."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that cattle are sold, one with the other, at eighteen piastres in San Francisco, and I cannot sell them for twenty-five here."
"Nonsense! I fancy I know the value of ganado as well as any man; and I offer you the price your herd is worth."
"No, general, it is not worth it, and you know it as well as I do," the hunter objected resolutely. "I thank you for your generosity, but I cannot accept it: my friend would be angry with me for making such a bargain."
"Then you refuse?"