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"No, I don't; I pay you ten dollars now." Johnny, remember, had a full two days' acquaintance with the brother of Tomaso. He was taking a certain precaution, rather than an unfair advantage. He honestly believed that the brother of Tomaso was best dealt with cautiously.
Pilar, raising her eyes for one brief terrible moment, saw that Tomaso, her mother's head vaquero, stood in the middle of the square holding two horses, and that every man, woman, and child of the Presidio was outside the buildings. The Commandante and the Alcalde were with the Governor and his staff, and Padre Estudillo. They had the air of being present at an important ceremony.
"Tomaso he die," said he and shook his head. "He tak bad colds and have cough two year. Doctors said he have no chance in dis climate. I send him home to Napoli, and he die. But America fine place," Emilio added, as if defending our climate. "Good country. Everybody do well here."
With a dainty, dancing motion, and a proud tossing of his head, he now threw his weight slowly backward and forward. The great teeter worked to perfection. Signor Tomaso was kept bowing to round after round of applause while the leopard, the goat, and King returned proudly to their places. After this, four of the red-and-yellow uniformed attendants ran in, each carrying a large hoop.
"And if the gate is left open but one instant a single inch, no more why, worlds might be done." "A horse ready saddled near at hand might be worth thinking of." "True." "And a small keg of gunpowder blown up under the archway by the waterside entrance would divert attention." "Tomaso," ejaculated the blind man, "you're born to be a captain of brigands some day!"
Three days from now I bring them again. Meanwhile, thou canst enjoy the fangs at thy vitals." Pilar breathed freely again, but she cried sharply, "Ay, no! no!" "Ay, yes! yes!" Doña Brígida stalked up and down, while Pilar twisted her hands together, and Sturges mused upon his future wife's talent for dramatic invention. Suddenly Doña Brígida shouted: "Tomaso, come here! The spring!
"Master Tomaso," he said, "men say that you have learned to make gold." "They say many things impossible to prove, as you are doubtless aware," Tomaso answered. "Do you then deny that it is possible?" persisted Gregory. "He is foolish," Tomaso returned, "who denies that a thing may happen, because he finds it extraordinary." "Under certain conditions, you would say, it can be done?"
They parted on the lawn before the house, the Count to climb his tower, and the sculptor to read an antique edition of Dante, which he had found among some old volumes of Catholic devotion, in a seldom-visited room, Tomaso met him in the entrance hall, and showed a desire to speak. "Our poor signorino looks very sad to-day!" he said. "Even so, good Tomaso," replied the sculptor.
Then he stopped abruptly, turned his head, and looked at Tomaso in expectation. The latter came up, fondled his ears, and assured him that he had done wonders. Then King returned to his place, elation bristling in his whiskers.
The stage now set to his satisfaction, Signor Tomaso advanced to the centre of it. He snapped his whip, and uttered a sharp cry which the audience doubtless took for purest Italian.