“But you must have money somewhere,” asked the _Porteño_, anxiously, “just enough to show this gentleman we can be trusted to carry out his commission? Come over here a moment. You will excuse us for a minute, won’t you?” he added, addressing the _campesino_.
“Yes, but señores,” cried the latter, almost in tears, “you are not going to talk about anything to my hurt?”
“On the contrary, it is entirely for your good,” answered the townsman. “Just excuse us a moment until we arrange this matter to your satisfaction.”
The two of us crossed the street, where the _Porteño_ asked me again if I could not show I had money.
“Why, yes,” I lied, determined now at all costs not to let him take unfair advantage of the incredibly simple _estanciero_, “I have money in the—er—the German bank and in the German consulate. But how can I get it out, to-day being Sunday? Of course, if the bank-book would be sufficient proof for our friend, I could hurry home and get that.”
“Well, now, how could we arrange?” puzzled the townsman. “You could go and get the bank-book. Or shall I go with you? No, it will be better for me to stay here with our friend, for with seven thousand pesos in his pocket, which anyone might take away from him—but you could run home and get the bank-book, and that perhaps would keep him interested until to-morrow, when the banks open—for of course, being a man from the pampa, he won’t know that a bank-book is proof of having money—and to-morrow you could get the money out and.... How much money have you in the bank?”
“I can’t say exactly,” I answered, ostensibly cudgeling my brains to remember, “perhaps a little over six thousand pesos.”
“Ah, that’s fine,” said the _Porteño_, his eyes shining, “because that, with what I have, will just about equal the seven thousand our friend has, and give him full confidence.” We turned back toward the countryman.
“Of course,” went on my companion, bringing his lips close to my ear, “when we get that seven thousand—and I know you are not the sort of man who will beat me out of my share just because it is going to be put into _your_ hands. Are you?” When I shook my head he grasped my hand and shook it fervently. “When we get that seven thousand it won’t much matter whether the priest and the hospital—you understand me, as man to man, don’t you?”