“Man!... Besides, the victim was my cousin, remember.”
“A fine man you are for anybody to rely on!” added the compositor sarcastically.
Manuel was silent. He believed that he had done ill to purchase his freedom at such a price. El Bizco was a bandit; but the fellow had never done him any harm. That was true.
“The worst of it is, I can’t turn back,” said Manuel. “Nor can I escape, for that Ortiz would come here and it would be just like him to take off your sister and La Salvadora to prison.”
“Why?”
“Because they told him they’d be responsible for me.”
“Bah, that’s easy to get around! They tell him that you were here; that they warned you not to forget to do the same as on other days, and that that’s all they know. That’s all.”
“What do you think of the plan?” asked Manuel of La Fea, vacillating.
“Do as you please. I think Jesús must know what he’s talking about, and I don’t think they can do anything to us.”
“There’s another thing,” added Manuel. “I can’t live for a very long time in hiding. I’ll have to work so as to get food, and they’ll catch me.”