“Send to the chief English or Scotch engineer at the chief mine.”
“Assuredly,” the corporal said. “Meanwhile, enter.”
Sard entered and was locked in. The corporal opened the grating in the door and said, “How am I to be rewarded for this sending to the engineers?”
“You shall be rewarded when they come.”
“Who will reward me?” the corporal asked; “will it be yourself or the engineers?”
“It will be myself.”
“Truly, then,” the corporal said, “since it will be you who will reward me, when the work is done, it must be you who shall make it worth my while to do it. How much then? A hundred pesetas?”
“Not a penny piece,” Sard said, “till the engineers are here. Then indeed you shall be rewarded.”
“There is a very wise proverb,” the corporal said, “ ‘Paid first never grieves.’ And yet another proverb says, ‘Will-pay is a fine bird, but cash-down sings.’ ”
“There is yet another proverb,” Sard answered, “ ‘The fed hound never hunts,’ and another still, ‘Penny-pouched is promise-broken.’ ”