The Gringos: A Story Of The Old California Days In 1849Bower, B. M.
General
The Gringos: A Story Of The Old California Days In 1849
Bower, B. M.
California -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction; Western stories
"I wish you wouldn't take my affairs so to heart," he said, apathy
fighting his understanding and his appreciation of a friend like this.
"I'd he a whole lot easier in my mind if I didn't know you were worried
half to death. And it's no good worrying, Dade. Some' things just come
at a fellow, head down; and they have to be met, if we expect to look
anybody in the face again." He shifted his head impatiently and stared
again at the ceiling. "I'd rather be dead than a coward," he said,
speaking low.
"Oh, I know. But--men are just beasts with clothes on their backs. Did
you hear them yelling, awhile ago? That was when beasts just as human as
they are under the skin, fought and killed each other, so those yelling
maniacs could get a thrill or two." He searched his pockets for a match,
found one and drew it glumly along the sole of his high-heeled, calfskin
boot with its embroidered top of yellow silk on red morocco.
"That's what makes me sick to the stomach," he went on. "They'll sit and
watch you two, and they'll gloat over the spectacle--"
A brisk tattoo of knuckles on the oaken door stopped him. Bill came in,
grinning with satisfaction over something.
"Say, I've been getting bets laid down five and six to one, on the
greaser," he exulted. "You go in and clean him up, Jack, and we'll skin
this outfit down to their shirts! All the boys have been taking every
bet that was offered; and the old don, I guess, is about the only
greaser on the place that ain't bet all he's got. Three-to-one that José
gets you the third pass, m' son! Now, I don't know a damned thing about
this here lasso business, but I took 'em on that, and so did a lot of
the boys; and from that up to six-to-one that he'll get you! Want to lay
a few bets yourself, you and Dade? That's what I come to find out."
Dade threw out both hands in disgust with the idea; revolted
unexpectedly at the thought of being accused of failing to back his
friendship with money as well as with every fiber of his loyal being,
and turned sourly to Bill. "I've got something like six or eight
hundred, in dust," he said. "Lend me enough to make it a thousand, and
put 'er up. Take any odds they offer, damn 'em. It'll be blood money,
win or lose, but--put 'er up. They can't yowl around that I'm afraid to
back him down to my boots."
"That's the kinda talk!" approved Bill. "Make 'em take water all around,
the swine! And the boys'll see they cough up afterwards, too. I guess--"
He checked himself and went out, still grinning.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DUEL OF RIATAS
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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