“I toast you, fair sir!” exclaimed the stranger, and emptied the wine cup. The eager neophyte filled it again quickly and departed for water. “When we observed you in the distance,” the sergeant said, “I sent a man to awaken our ensign. Being an officer who loves his sleep, it probably will be some minutes before he arrives to greet you. If, in the meantime, you care to relate what has befallen you on the highway we shall rejoice to hear it.” “A matter of small consequence,” replied the stranger. “I was set upon by bandits, both Indian and Mexican.” “One of each?” inquired the sergeant, blandly. “At least half a score of each, _señor_--quite a company, in fact.” “Ah! Now we are to get the story of your prowess. Kindly proceed, caballero!” “I rode alone, save for an Indian. We were ambushed. My Indian fell at the first discharge of arrows----” “Arrows, _señor_?” “At first--so as to make no noise and put other travellers on their guard, I presume. Then the bandits rushed. Standing with my back against a jumble of rocks, I emptied my two pistols in their faces. Then I drew my sword. Arrows and bullets were flying about me then, yet in my anger I made such good use of my blade that the bandits fled--those able to flee. They had slain my horse and my Indian’s mule. I took off saddle and bridle, not wishing to leave them behind for the thieves, and trudged here afoot, some half-score of miles, carrying my property. That is all--it is of small consequence.” “An excellent tale!” Sergeant Cassara cried, slapping his thigh. “You are a man after my own heart, caballero! Neophyte, fill the man’s wine cup again! And now, fair sir, that you have repaid us for your refreshment with this artful bit of fiction, will you not indeed be kind enough to tell us what happened to your mount that sent you walking along El Camino Real carrying your saddle?” “Is it possible,” demanded the stranger, “that you do not believe my story?” “Was I born during the last moon, think you? Have I cut my first tooth? Can I, by any chance, yet stand without clinging to the wall--what?” Sergeant Cassara roared with laughter, throwing back his head and opening his wide jaws. The corporal and soldiers joined in the merriment. And as suddenly as the laughter had commenced it died out, for the stranger had risen slowly and deliberately and was wiping his greasy hands on the end of his cloak. His eyes had narrowed until it seemed that flashes of fire came from between the lids; his hands gripped the edge of the table as he bent forward. “This has been a hard day for me, _señor_,” he said. “I am not used to walking great distances in the dust and sun and carrying a heavy weight while doing so. Indeed, I am far from feeling fresh. But, by all the saints that ever existed or will, I still have strength enough to run through the man who calls me liar! Draw, you--and on guard!”