"That is a matter of perfect indifference to me. I never recall my decision under any circumstances. Another time you will think twice before venturing so rashly into the claws of El Buitre. The orejada—"
"Oh, my lord!" the luckless Saccaplata exclaimed, as he fell on his knees, "I am a poor devil. Have pity on me, noble captain, I implore you!"
"Come, put an end to this."
In spite of his cries and protestations, the landlord was seized and haled off by his guardians, amid the laughter and sarcasms of the bandits, whom the sight promised by the captain delighted.
"Stop!" the huésped suddenly exclaimed; "I think I have a little money about me."
"No, no!" the salteadores shouted. "Give him the orejada all the same."
El Garrucholo made a sign, and order was restored.
"Let us see," he said.
The wretch gave a sigh, and with extreme difficulty, after ransacking all his pockets with many a protestation that he was utterly ruined, which the bandits listened to with stoical indifference, he at last succeeded in making up a little more than half the sum.
"Hum!" the lieutenant said as he pocketed the money, "that is nothing; but I am a good fellow. You have no more?"