“Your headstrong folly will ruin both yourself and my plans, yet; not that the first would matter much, because the sooner the zopilates feed upon your hideous carcass the better; but until this affair is over, remember your life belongs to me, and you must keep as much in the dark as possible. Supposing some of those miners should meet you again—for they will not soon forget such a marvel of grace and beauty as you are—their first greeting would be either a stab or a pistol bullet,” angrily muttered Lopez, as he refilled his glass.
“Carrai! but that’s a two-handed game,” returned Cohecho. “And they have all returned to work at the mines, so there is no danger of that. But about this Sayosa?”
“You will receive five hundred pesos, if you bring me satisfactory proof that he is dead; but beware how you act. If you try to deceive me, I wear a knife that has stilled the breath of better men than you, and perhaps you know my hand never misses its aim,” answered Romulo, significantly.
“Voto al demonios,’nor capitan, where is the need of threats? Have I ever played you false?”
“Not to my knowledge. If you had, you would not be sitting here now.”
“He is your enemy, and mine also. I shall claim the money within the week, perhaps before another night. But the other—”
“Is an altogether different affair. You will be paid for it, as I told you, just as soon as the work is done.”
“Carambo, it is beautiful!” murmured the ruffian, in a joyful tone. “After this I shall set up a monte bank, and roll in gold—the sweet, darling gold!”
“Yes; after, but not yet. Do not let your chiripe turn your brain or steal away the little sense you have got,” sneered Don Lopez, as he lighted another cigarette.
“Pardon, ’nor capitan, I was dreaming. But did you see this Don Felipe Canelo?” returned Cohecho.