The people were cheering. Both men faced toward the grove and waved their hats. "You damned impudent coyote!" said Curtis through his teeth. Then he grinned, and added, "But I like your nerve, though." At the grove side the manager threw his bridle to the Mexican, but turned impulsively and called, "Here, José, wait a minute. I want you to show these people how you can throw the knife." A stride or two took him to José's side. "And I'll be your target, damn you!" he added in an undertone. He walked back where Lucy, Miss Dent, and his brother were standing, humming a stave or two from a comic opera under his breath. Homer noticed that his face was rather pale and that his eyes were blazing, but thought it due to his annoyance at having been roped. Gonzalez came back from the corral, carefully testing with his finger the edge and point of his knife. Conrad, his head held high, a smile on his face and exhilaration in his manner, was telling the company to stand a little to one side, to make sure they were out of the way of the knife. As Gonzalez came up, he stepped in front of the nearest tree, with the Mexican facing him ten or twelve paces distant. Judge Banks called to him to watch out for the knife himself, and he turned a smiling face for an instant as he answered gayly, "Oh, I'm all right!" In the same tone he called, "Start her up, José! And remember, you're to do your level best." José's teeth shone in a gleaming smile as he replied significantly, "I shall, Don Curtis!" He took an alert, graceful posture, one foot set back and head thrust slightly forward. The muscles of his arm were still relaxed as his knife slid along his wrist and nestled into place. Conrad drew himself up tensely and his eyes narrowed as he fixed them upon the Mexican's. For an instant they eyed each other; then, like a flash, José's arm swung back. Not until that moment did any member of the company understand that Curtis was deliberately making himself a target; even then many did not realize the significance of the game with death he had set himself to play. Ned Castleton's face went white, and his voice died in his throat as he tried to call to José to stop. Alexander Bancroft stared with devouring eyes, his breath coming hard. The overmastering desire for freedom and safety was upon him, and he could not take his gaze from the Mexican's poised figure. Louise Dent, beside him, drew one gasping breath and covered her face with her hands. Afterward she knew that she had not done this so much to shut from her eyes the next moment's expected sight as to hide from her soul's vision the glimpse she had caught of the desire springing to life in her own heart. [Illustration: "LIKE A FLASH JOSÉ'S ARM SWUNG BACK, ... AND CURTIS SPRANG LIGHTLY ASIDE AS THE KNIFE STRUCK DEEP INTO THE TREE"]