When he ate his eleven o'clock breakfast with Adam and the President in the arcade, he took out the coin and told them about the shopkeeper's refusal to take it back.
"A Spanish onza," Adam remarked. "Worth nearly five pounds in English money, but a collector might give you more if it's as old as it looks. One used to see onzas in Cuba, and native merchants in Central America, who hadn't much use for banks, liked to get them. Now, however, they're getting scarce."
"In this country, all gold coins are scarce," Alvarez said dryly. "I agree with the shopkeeper that Don Cristoval is fortunate, and expect he feels that my people are honester than he thought."
"I was puzzled—" said Kit and stopped, for he saw the president's smile and began to understand.
"You are shrewd, señor; but that was to be expected from my old friend's nephew. To begin with, the man who keeps the shop is not a supporter of the Government."
"Ah," said Kit, "I think I see!"
Alvarez bowed. "One can trust your intelligence, and you can keep the coin. It looks as if my antagonists were curious about your character—the honor of a man who would take money that does not belong to him is open to doubt. The experiment was cheap."
Kit said nothing and the president filled a little glass with scented liquor. "I know my friends, Don Cristoval, and your uncle has stood much harder tests."
He touched Kit's glass with his. "Well, I am lucky, because I may need friends soon."
He got up and when he went down the long arcade Adam looked at Kit with a smile.