and panting, fastened together, remain immovable until the blanco falls, bleeds through his neck, kicks violently and is in the agony of death. The rojo, pinned by his wing, is held to the other's side; and little by little he doubles up his legs and slowly closes his eyes. Then the referee, in accordance with the regulations prescribed by the Government, declares the rojo the winner. A wild and prolonged outcry greets the decision, an outcry which is heard throughout the town. He, who, from afar, hears the cry, understands that the dejado has beaten the favorite, for otherwise the outcry would not have lasted so long. So it happens among nations: when a small nation succeeds in gaining a victory over a greater one, the song and story of it last through centuries. "Do you see?" said Bruno, with indignation, to his brother, "if you had taken my advice to-day, we would have had one hundred pesos. On your account we are without a cuarto." Tarsilo did not reply, but, with wide-open eyes, looked around him as if in search of some one. "There he is talking with Pedro," added Bruno. "He is giving him money--what a lot of money!" Tarsilo remained silent and thoughtful. With the arm of his camisa, he wiped away the sweat which formed in drops on his forehead. "Brother," said Bruno, "I am decided, even if you are not. The lásak ought to win and we ought not to lose the opportunity. I want to bet on the next fight. What does it matter? Thus, we will avenge our father." "Wait!" said Tarsilo to him, and looked him in the eyes. Both were pale. "I am with you. You are right. We will avenge our father." He stopped, however, and again wiped away the perspiration. "Why do you stop?" asked Bruno impatiently. "Do you know what fight is the next one? Is it worth the trouble?" "What! Haven't you heard? Captain Tiago's lásak against Captain Basilio's bulik. According to the run of luck, the lásak ought to win." "Ah! The lásak. I would bet ... but let us make sure first." Bruno made a gesture of impatience, but followed his brother. The latter looked the rooster over carefully, thought about it, debated with himself and asked a few questions. The unfortunate fellow was in doubt. Bruno was nervous and looked at him angrily. "Why, don't you see that wide scale which he has there near the spur? Do you see those feet? What more do you want? Look at those legs. Stretch out his wings. And that broken scale on top of that wide one, and that double one?" Tarsilo did not hear him, he kept on examining the cock. The rattle of silver coins reached his ears. "Let us see the bulik now," said he, in a choking voice. Bruno stamped the ground with his feet, grated his teeth, but obeyed his brother. They approached the other group. There they were arming the cock, they were selecting gaffs for him, and the expert, in fitting them to the rooster's legs, was preparing a piece of red silk. He waxed it and rubbed it over his knee a number of times.