"That was mighty neighborly of the señor," observed the Yankee storekeeper.
"Yes-s?" hissed Carlitos. "One hundred pesos, mind—and the Church take all of that. Between the church and the landowners we are ground to powder!
"Mind you, señor, it was for becoming man and wife, and for the raising of seven sons and daughters and, now, of over thirty of my generation. My grandfather and all the men and boys living of his race, save me and a brother who is with the raiders, are still working for Señor Baldasso to pay off that hundred pesos!
"What you think of that, señor, huh?"
"Aw—that don't seem sensible," said Hotchkiss. "Haven't you paid the original debt?"
"Sí, señor! that is the truth. Always are we kep' in debt to Señor Baldasso. Me, I get out—turn outlaw you say—buy this 'tin Leezie'—mak' money plenty. But none of it go to that Señor Baldasso—by goodness, no!"
"So you aren't helping pay off the family debt?" drawled Hotchkiss.
"No, señor. Sometime I hope to," said Carlitos grimly.
"Yes?"
"At once. All of a piece. You understand?"