The Jungle Trail. Johnston McCulley
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it at the present moment. I shall beseech the governor this night to remove his edict for a day, that I may cross blades with you—though I lower myself to do it."
"You'll be lowered properly if you attempt it!" Rodrigo Ruiz exclaimed, laughing loudly. "Be lowered even to the ground and stretched there while priests mumble!"
"I cannot endure such rabble!" Garabito exclaimed to his friend. "And this fellow—this Botello—to push a quarrel in furtherance of his suit for a lady—"
"Hah!" Botello roared, springing forward again. "No lady has been mentioned save by your lips. And those same lips of yours are too foul, señor—"
"When his excellency removes his edict!" Garabito promised; and he whirled on one heel to continue across the plaza.
"A moment, señor!" Botello called. "The tweak on the nose was for disregarding my orders. There is another score."
"Indeed, señor?"
"But, yes! Sometime since, in conversation with another man, you termed me a lying braggart; did you not?"
"Eavesdropping, eh, señor?"
"Your words were loud enough for half the jungle to hear. You said it—did you not?"
"If I did—"
"It would be an insult to De Balboa, my leader, to let such a statement pass without resentment, señor. It were time you admitted to all here that when you spoke you were beside yourself with anger and had small regard for the truth."
"You scarcely can expect such a thing, señor!" Garabito said, sneering again.
"Then suppose, caballero, that you let your friend hold that dainty handkerchief of yours, and draw blade."
Now Rodrigo Ruiz hurried forward and plucked at Botello's sleeve, whispering what it would mean to urge a quarrel; and for an instant Botello turned his head to tell his friend to go about his own business. In that instant. Garabito whipped out his rapier and lunged forward, a foul stroke, while half a score caballeros cried out their warnings to Botello.
Botello whirled in time to dodge the darting weapon, though it ripped through his clothing.
"Another tatter, eh?" he cried, drawing blade in turn.
He knocked Garabito's sword arm aside, and struck his foe across the cheek with the flat of his hand.
"That for a man of your stamp!" he cried. "As foul with blade as you are with speech and in mind and actions, eh? 'Tis a disgrace to our king if you draw such sword in his cause. On guard, señor! You fight for life now!"
Garabito knew it! And now that the issue was at hand, he entered into the combat with zeal, for Garabito was no mean swordsman. Other men sprang back to give them ample room, and because they feared interruption there was no voice, no sound save that of the ringing blades, the shuffling of feet on the hard-baked earth, and the heavy breathing of the combatants.
Thus for the space of five minutes without advantage to either, and then Botello took a step forward and began to force the fighting, his blade darting in and out like the tongue of a snake. Garabito gave ground, for he was growing weak already, and his wrist was tiring, and he was haunted by the knowing smile of Botello that expressed how this combat was to end.
"Too much high living, señor!" Botello taunted. "Already your wind is gone! Your wrist tires! Hah! I almost reached you then! Say your prayers, señor, while yet there is time—but say them swiftly if you would have them done before your eyes glaze. Hah!"
His blade ripped through Garabito's sleeve, and Garabito gave ground again. The men were cheering the combat now, for it was a sight in the presence of which they could not keep silent. They did not notice that Garabito's friend had darted away.
And now he returned, and with him came the governor's lieutenant and two of the guard; and they charged across the plaza, shrieking cries to the combatants to stop in the name of his excellency and the king.
Botello's eyes narrowed and the smile left his face. He attacked furiously, for he would have an end of this affair before interruption came. Foot by foot Garabito was forced to retreat, doing his best to put up what defense he could, knowing that relief was near. Once more Botello's blade slashed at his arm, and this time caused a scratch that brought blood to the surface.
Another furious drive, and Garabito all but turned to flee. But his excellency's lieutenant was at hand now, and his drawn sword crashed against those of the combatants and attempted to hold them up.
But Botello could not be stopped that easily now. He knocked the lieutenant's blade aside, and again he lunged forward, determined to make an end of it. The two guards rushed in; Botello dodged them both and was after his adversary again.
"Caballeros! I command your assistance here—in the king's name!" the lieutenant called.
It was treason to refuse to obey, yet some of the caballeros hesitated. But Botello had no intention of bringing trouble to his friends. He stepped back as Garabito withdrew behind one of the soldiers, and allowed the lieutenant to take his sword from his hand.
"Another time, Señor Garabito!' he called.
"At your pleasure, señor!" the answer came.
But it came in breathless gasps.
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