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Chapter 7

           Iamnotexactlytiredofmylife,thoughIamsopoorthatIcancarryallIhavewithmyselfonmyhorse’sback.”

           “Yougambletoomuch,andneversay‘no’toaprettyface,Capataz,”saidDr.Monygham,withslysimplicity.“That’snotthewaytomakeafortune.ButnobodythatIknoweversuspectedyouofbeingpoor.Ihopeyouhavemadeagoodbargainincaseyoucomebacksafefromthisadventure.”

           “Whatbargainwouldyourworshiphavemade?”askedNostromo,blowingthesmokeoutofhislipsthroughthedoorway.

           Dr.Monyghamlistenedupthestaircaseforamomentbeforeheanswered,withanotherofhisshort,abruptlaughs

           “IllustriousCapataz,fortakingthecurseofdeathuponmyback,asyoucallit,nothingelsebutthewholetreasurewoulddo.”

           Nostromovanishedoutofthedoorwaywithagruntofdiscontentatthisjeeringanswer.Dr.Monyghamheardhimgallopaway.Nostromorodefuriouslyinthedark.TherewerelightsinthebuildingsoftheO.S.N.Companynearthewharf,butbeforehegottherehemettheGouldcarriage.Thehorsemanprecededitwiththetorch,whoselightshowedthewhitemulestrotting,theportlyIgnaciodriving,andBasiliowiththecarbineonthebox.FromthedarkbodyofthelandauMrs.Gould’svoicecried,“Theyarewaitingforyou,Capataz!”Shewasreturning,chillyandexcited,withDecoud’spocket-bookstillheldinherhand.Hehadconfidedittohertosendtohissister.

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