"Don Caesar Alvarado told my daughter."

"Then that is why he has thrown off on me since he returned," said
Mulrady, with sudden small malevolence, "just that he might unload
his gossip because Mamie wouldn't have him. The old woman was
right in warnin' me agin him."

The outburst was so unlike him, and so dwarfed his large though
common nature with its littleness, that it was easy to detect its
feminine origin, although it filled Slinn with vague alarm.

"Never mind him," said the old man, hastily; "what I wanted to say
now is that I abandon everything to you and yours. There are no
proofs; there never will be any more than what we know, than what
we have tested and found wanting. I swear to you that, except to
show you that I have not lied and am not crazy, I would destroy
them on their way to your hands. Keep the money, and spend it as
you will. Make your daughter happy, and, through her, yourself.
You have made me happy through your liberality; don't make me
suffer through your privation."

"I tell you what, old man," said Mulrady, rising to his feet, with
an awkward mingling of frankness and shame in his manner and
accent, "I should like to pay that money for Mamie, and let her be
a princess, if it would make her happy. I should like to shut the
lantern jaws of that Don Caesar, who'd be too glad if anything
happened to break off Mamie's match. But I shouldn't touch that
capital--unless you'd lend it to me. If you'll take a note from
me, payable if the property ever becomes yours, I'd thank you. A