When he got fairly
between us, Cayley pulled out his revolver (we both carried
pistols) and thus addressed him:
'Impudent old scoundrel! stand still. If thou stirr'st hand
or foot, or openest thy mouth, I will slay thee like a dog.
Thou greedy miscreant, who art evidently a man of property
and hast an ass to ride upon, art not satisfied without
trying to rob the truly poor of the alms we give them.
Therefore hand over at once the two dollars for which thou
hast sold thy cabbages for double what they were worth.'
The old culprit fell on his knees, and trembling violently,
prayed Cayley for the love of the Virgin to spare him.
'One moment, CABALLEROS,' he cried, 'I will give you all I
possess. But I am poor, very poor, and I have a sick wife at
the disposition of your worships.'
'Wherefore art thou fumbling at thy foot? Thou carriest not
thy wife in thy shoe?'
'I cannot untie the string - my hand trembles; will your
worships permit me to take out my knife?'
He did so, and cutting the carefully knotted thong of a
leather bag which had been concealed in the leg of his
stocking, poured out a handful of small coin and began to
weep piteously.
