The Jefe nodded acquiescence, then said:
"Will it be as much as a thousand gold you will get?"
"I think so. Surely the pig of an Irish stock-gambler could pay me no less a sum, and five hundred is yours if pig Francis leaves his bones in San Antonio."
"Will it be as much as a hundred thousand gold?" was the Jefe's next query.
Torres laughed as if at a joke.
"It must be more than a thousand," the other persisted.
"And he may be generous," Torres responded., "He may even give me five hundred over the thousand, half of which, naturally, as I have said, will be yours as well."
"I shall go from here immediately to the jail," the Jefe announced. "You may trust me, Se,nor Torres, as I trust you. Come. We will go at once, now, you and I, and you may see for yourself the preparation I shall make for this Francis Morgan's reception. I have not yet lost my cunning with a rifle. And, as well, I shall tell off three of the gendarmes to fire only at him. So this Gringo dog would storm our jail, eh? Come. We will depart at once."
He stood up, tossing his cigarette away with a show of determined energy. But, half way across the room, a ragged boy, panting and sweating, plucked his sleeve and whined:
"I have information. You will pay me for it, most high Senor? I have run all the way."