"He told me so himself."
"Very good. It was then, I suppose, that you stabbed him?"
"Yes, and at the same time I plucked out his claws; that is to say, I seized the letters he held, and which might compromise me."
"A mistake. This man is too thorough-paced a scoundrel not to foresee all the chances of his treason. He had a last letter, the most important of all; and that you did not take from him."
"I took three."
"Yes, but there were four. As the last, however, in itself was worth as much as the other three, he always wore it about him in a leathern bag hung round his neck by a steel chain; you did not dream of looking for that."
"But what importance can this letter, I do not even remember writing, possess, that you should attach such weight to it?"
"It is merely the agreement drawn up between yourself, General Ibañez, and Mr. Wood, and bearing your three signatures."
"Con mil demonios!" the hacendero exclaimed in terror. "In that case I am lost; for if this man really possesses such a document, he will not fail to employ it in order to be revenged on me."
"Nothing is lost so long as a man's heart beats in his breast, Don Miguel. The position is critical, I allow, but I have saved myself in situations far more desperate than the one you are now in."