"Me, money back? Ah, surely you don't understand! When it's lost in
gambling they never pay. Besides, you have a consul, you can force
them, but I haven't."

Simoun became thoughtful. "Listen, Quiroga," he said, somewhat
abstractedly, "I'll undertake to collect what the officers and sailors
owe you. Give me their notes."

Quiroga again fell to whining: they had never given him any notes.

"When they come to you asking for money, send them to me. I want to
help you."

The grateful Quiroga thanked him, but soon fell to lamenting again
about the bracelets. "A _cigarrera_ wouldn't be so shameless!" he
repeated.

"The devil!" exclaimed Simoun, looking askance at the Chinese, as
though studying him. "Exactly when I need the money and thought that
you could pay me! But it can all be arranged, as I don't want you
to fail for such a small amount. Come, a favor, and I'll reduce to
seven the nine thousand pesos you owe me. You can get anything you
wish through the Customs--boxes of lamps, iron, copper, glassware,
Mexican pesos--you furnish arms to the conventos, don't you?"

The Chinese nodded affirmation, but remarked that he had to do a good
deal of bribing. "I furnish the padres everything!"

"Well, then," added Simoun in a low voice, "I need you to get in for
me some boxes of rifles that arrived this evening. I want you to keep