"What do you want?"
"Give me my three pesetas and take your bundle."
"Nix. Give us a duro and we won't say a word."
"Like hell."
"Give us only two pesetas more."
"Here's one, you rascal."
Vidal seized the coin that the ragdealer threw at him, and, as none was sure of himself, they made off hurriedly. When they reached Dolores' house in Las Cambroneras, they were bathed in perspiration, exhausted.
They ordered a flask of wine from the tavern, "A rotten bungle we made of it, hang it all," grumbled Vidal.
After the wine was paid for there remained ten reales; this they divided among the three, receiving eighty céntimos apiece. Vidal summed up the day's work with the remark that this committing robberies in out-of-the-way spots was all disadvantages and no advantages, for besides exposing oneself to the danger of being sent to the penitentiary almost for life and getting a beating and being chewed up by a moral dog, a fellow ran the risk of being wretchedly fooled.