I
need it to take away my things in. The plough you may have. That
is worth twenty."
"I'll do it," said the man; and pulling out a heavy buckskin pouch,
he counted out into Alessandro's hand two hundred dollars in gold.
"Is that all right?" he said, as he put down the last piece.
"That is the sum I said, Senor," replied Alessandro. "Tomorrow, at
noon, you can come into the house."
"Where will you go?" asked the man, again slightly touched by
Alessandro's manner. "Why don't you stay round here? I expect you
could get work enough; there are a lot of farmers coming in here;
they'll want hands."
A fierce torrent of words sprang to Alessandro's lips, but he
choked them back. "I do not know where I shall go, but I will not
stay here," he said; and that ended the interview.
"I don't know as I blame him a mite for feeling that way," thought
the man from the States, as he walked slowly back to his pile of
lumber. "I expect I should feel just so myself."
Almost before Alessandro had finished this tale, he began to move
about the room, taking down, folding up, opening and shutting
lids; his restlessness was terrible to see.
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