"But, mi General," said the spokesman, "we did not hear of the decree until to-day. We have been using bank-bills and silver in our village. We had not seen your money, and we did not know....'
"You have a good deal of money?" interrupted Villa suddenly.
"Yes, mi General."
"Three or four or five thousand, perhaps?"
"More than that, mi General!"
"Señores," Villa squinted at them ferociously, "samples of my money reached your village within twenty-four hours after it was issued. You decided that my government would not last. You dug holes under your fireplaces and put the silver and bank-notes there. You knew of my first proclamation a day after it was posted up in the streets of Chihuahua, and you ignored it. The Counterfeit Decree you also knew as soon as it was issued. You thought there was always time to change if it became necessary. And then you got frightened, and you three, who have more money than anyone else in the village, got on your mules and rode down here. Señores, your money is counterfeit. You are poor men!"
"Valgame dios!" cried the oldest of the three, sweating profusely.
"But we are ruined, mi General!—I swear to you—We did not know—We would have accepted—There is no food in the village——"
The General in Chief meditated for a moment.
"I will give you one more chance," he said, "not for you, but for the poor people of your village who can buy nothing. Next Wednesday at noon bring all your money, every cent of it, to the Treasury, and I will see what can be done."