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"Chicarona," said the gypsy, "ze Gacho az byed ze ztallion for zwo hunner an' viftee dollars, an' now he wanz to buy Pepeeta." "Wad vor?" she asked. "Berhabs he zinkz zhe eez a prinzez, I dunno," he answered, digging the toe of his bare foot nervously into the sand. "Zen dell 'im zat he zhold not look vor ztrawberries in ze zea, nor red herring in ze wood," she said with a look of scorn.
Where is that stallion?" "Whad ztallion?" asked the imperturbable gypsy, with an expression of child-like innocence. "I will not even take time to tell you, but if you do not take me to him this instant there will be a dead gypsy in these woods," said the quack fiercely. "Ze zdranger jesz!" the gypsy answered blandly, showing his teeth and spreading out the palms of his hands.
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