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 town is full of talk about you; and those few car- gadores that are not in hiding with the railway people have been shouting 'Viva Montero 1 on the Plaza all day."

"My poor cargadores," muttered Nostromo. "Betrayed! Betrayed!"

I undelrstand that on the wharf you were pretty free in laying about you with a stick among your poor cargadores," the doctor said, in a grim tone, which showed that he was recovering from his exertions. "Make no mistake. Pedrito is furious at Señor Ribiera's rescue and at having lost the pleasure of shooting Decoud. Already there are rumors in the town of the treasure having been spirited away. To have missed that does not please Pedrito either; but let me tell you that if you had all that silver in your hand for your ransom it would not save you."

Turning swiftly, and catching the doctor by the shoulders, Nostromo thrust his face close to his.

"Maladetta! You follow me speaking of the treasure. You have sworn my ruin. You were the last man who looked upon me before I went out with it. And Sidoni, the engine-driver, says you have an evil eye."

"He ought to know. I saved his broken leg for him last year," the doctor said, stoically. He felt on his shoulders the weight of these hands famed among the populace for snapping thick ropes and bending horseshoes. "And to you I offer the best means of saving yourself—let me go—and of retrieving your great reputation. You boasted of making the capataz of cargadores famous from one end of America to the