"How are you, Juan?" he enquired politely in the formula that all Mexicans love. "And your wife, Rosita? Is she well also? Yes, thank God, I am well, myself. Where is Rico now? He is a good boy, truly--will you do one more thing for me, Juan?" "Si, Si, Senor!" answered Juan deferentially; and Rimrock smiled as he patted his shoulder. "You are a good man, Juan," he said. "A good friend of mine--I will remember it. Now get me an ore-sack--a strong one--like the one that contained the picked gold." "Un momento!" smiled Juan hurrying off towards the store and the Mexicans began to swarm to and fro. Some reward, they knew, was to be given to Juan to compensate him for the loss of his gold. His gold and his labor and all the unpaid debt that was owing to him and his son and the rest. The streets began to clatter with flying hoofs as they rode off to summon el pueblo, and by the time Old Juan returned with his sack all Mexican town was there. "Muy bien," pronounced Rimrock as he inspected the ore-sack, "now come with me, Amigo!" Amigo Juan went, and all his friends after him, to see what El Patron would do. Something generous and magnificent, they knew very well, for El Patron was gentleman, muy caballero. He led the way to the bank, still enquiring most solicitously about Juan's relations, his children, his burros and so on; and Juan, sweating like a packed jack under the stress of the excitement, answered courteously, as one should to El Patron, and clung eagerly to his sack. The crowd entered the bank and as L. W. came out Rimrock placed Juan's sack on the table. "Bring out new silver dollars, fresh from the mint," he said, "and fill up this sack for Juan!" "Santa Maria!" exclaimed Juan fervently as the cashier came staggering forth with a sack, and Rimrock took the bag, containing a thousand bulging dollars, and set it down before him. He broke the seal and as the shining silver burst forth he spilled it in a huge windrow on the table. "Now fill up your ore-sack," he said to Juan, "and all you can stuff into it is yours." "For a gift?" faltered Juan, and as Rimrock nodded he buried his hands in the coin. The dollars clanged and rattled as they spilled on the table and a great silence came over the crowd. They gazed at Old Juan as if he were an Aladdin, or All Baba in his treasure-cave. Old, gray-bearded Juan who hauled wood for a living, or packed cargas on his burros for El Patron! Yes, here he was with his fists full of dollars, piling them faster and faster into his bag. "Now shake the bag down," suggested El Patron, "and perhaps you can get in some more." "Some more?" panted Juan and quite mad with great riches he stuffed the sack to the top. "Very well," said Rimrock, "now take them home, and give part of the money to Rosita. Then take what is left in this other bag and give a fiesta to the boys who worked for me."