“Good action!” repeated Cuchillo, embarrassed to know at what epoch of his life he had done such a thing.
“Yes—in saving this young man’s life.”
“But it was you who did that good action: as for me, it was only a lucrative one.”
“Be it so. I will lend it to you, notwithstanding the proverb which says we should only lend to the rich. But now hear what I have ascertained—I, who do not boast either of my scruples of conscience or of my perspicacity. This young man has in his pocket, at this moment, a written direction of the route to the Golden Valley; moreover, he is passionately in love with Doña Rosarita, for whom he would give all the gold in this valley, or all the gold in the world, and all the horses in Sonora, if he had them. Moreover, his object in coming to the Hacienda del Venado, was to make himself its future proprietor.”
“Blood and thunder!” cried Cuchillo, started as if bitten by a snake—“that cannot be—it is not possible I could be fooled in that manner by a child!”
“That child is a giant beside you, master Cuchillo,” coldly replied Arechiza.
“It is impossible!” exclaimed the exasperated Cuchillo.
“Do you wish the proofs?—if you do you shall have them—but I may tell you they are of a nature to make you shudder from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet.”
“No matter; I should like to hear them,” said Cuchillo in a suppressed voice.
“I will not speak of your conscience—mark that well, Cuchillo! For I know that it never shudders—nor yet shall I speak of your timidity, which I observed last night while you were in the presence of the jaguars—”