“Not much, Meest Weld; but I know I am rich. I say I can buy ranch an’ be big man, an’ no one know I have steal Leighton’s gold.”
“Then why have you told us the secret?”
Miguel glanced toward the nursery.
“I am man for work,” said he. “Always I work; always I mus’ work. I am old. When I can no work, I mus’ die. Señor Cristoval mus’ leave gold when he die; it ees same with Miguel. Now I have good job. I can work an’ be happy. But—”
“Well, Miguel?”
“Leighton’s daughter, she ees a girl. A girl can not work like a man. It ees her gold, not mine. When you say it, I will show you where Leighton’s gold ees hid.”
Uncle John sprang up and grasped the man’s hand.
“You are an honest fellow, Miguel!” he cried.
“No, Meest Mereek,” was the reply. “I have wish to steal, so I am not honest.”
“But you have given up the gold.”