The arrangement was that Biriba bought the trotting mare for double the price she was worth, with money raised at three per cent per month from said Leandro, who was merely the creature of Fidencio.
Thus, by a master stroke, the sly boss won interest on the worst nag on his farm, besides holding the poor idiot, made postman, the halter of gratitude.
Biriba began his work: six leagues to do today and undo tomorrow, without any rest except the thirty-first day of every other month.
If only he had simply to devour the leagues in company of the limp mail-bags. His work, however, did not turn out so easy. As Itaóca was only a little place perched on a ridge of the mountain range and lacking everything, his political friends were always looking him up to order something from the city. When it was already time to leave, the unscrupulous people would appear with lists of notions or messages sent by little darkies.
"Missus says will you buy three spools of number 50 thread, a paper of needles, a roll of white tape, five packages of fine hairpins and if there is a penny left over will you bring a candy for Master Juquinha?"
Very often all these articles could be found in Itaóca; a trifle dearer, however, and therefore the object in ordering them elsewhere was to save the penny for the candy.
"Yes, sir, yes, sir! . . ."
No other words left his lips, although the continued abuse exasperated him. Besides the small and less troublesome orders there were
