"Not suspicious of my good faith!" exclaimed Coronado in a horrified whisper. "Oh, that is surely impossible."
"No, no—not suspicious—no, no, my son," chattered Garcia eagerly. "But I began to fear that you needed my help. Things seemed to move so slowly. Madre de Dios! All across the continent, and nothing done yet."
"Yes, much has been done. I had obstacles. I had people to get rid of. There was a person who undertook to be lover and protector."
"Is he gone?" inquired the old man anxiously.
"Ask no questions. The less told, the better. I wish to spare you all responsibility."
"Carlos, you are my son and heir. You deserve everything that I can give. All shall be yours, my son."
"That Texas Smith of yours is a humbug," broke out Coronado, his mind reverting to the letter which he had just burned. "I put work on him which he swore to do and did not do. He is a coward and a traitor."
"Oh, the pig! Did you pay him?"
"I had to pay him in advance—and then nothing done right," confessed Coronado.
"Oh, the pig, the dog, the toad, the villainous toad, the pig of hell!" chattered Garcia in a rage. "How much did you pay him? Five hundred dollars! Oh, the pig and the dog and the toad!"