sand other games, a man
mustn't make mistakes.

"Ferrero, who was rated the best banderillero in Peru, first faced the
bull. He held his stakes up near the end furthest from the bull, to get
as much distance at the start as possible, though it wasn't that alone
which saved him from the bull's rush. That helped, but the bull stopping
up short when he felt the spikes going into his neck, was what Ferrero
reckoned on, when it wasn't done too late. An instant after the stakes
were planted in his neck, the bull continued his charge, but by then
Ferrero was out of the way.

"Cogan, watching Ferrero and his companions from his retreat, began to
get the bull-fighting fever. He thought he would like to try the
banderillero's game--that is, after he'd had a few weeks' training at
it. These were fine athletes--and something more. They were risking
their lives every minute.

"They leaped like panthers. The jabbing in of the stakes and the
wiggling aside to escape the bull's plunge, it was like one movement.
Soon the bull was going round the ring, with five or six pairs of
banderillas decorating his neck. Of these Ferrero had planted the first
and last pair. When he came back to his place in the refuge beside
Cogan, the air was quivering with buenos. 'Buenos!' said Cogan also to
him. 'Not bad--no.' said Ferrero very well pleased.

"But the great thing was to come. 'El matador, el matador! Torellas,
Torellas,' they were shouting. And again Torellas came. He crossed the
ring, with his even, unhurried walk to Cogan's place of refuge, and
asked for his cape--'You will allow me--please--yes? Gracias, senor,'
and, with the one word 'Americano,' and a nod of his head toward Cogan,
Torellas held the cape to the nearest section of American blue-jackets
who had been wondering, ever since the word had been passed, which was
the American among the bull-fighters. Cogan, of course, was dressed like
any other bull-fighter, and being dark-haired and pretty well tanned
wasn't to be picked out easily, especially as he buried himself to the
eyes in his place of refuge. He didn't want to be recognized--not then,
and so he stayed hid away, and so it was Ferrero, in the same refuge
with Cogan, but looming above him, who was cheered by the many
blue-jackets for their countryman. And Ferrero gleefully bowed and bowed
again to their applause.

"Torellas wrapped the cape around his left forearm. He then took from an
attendant and gripped in his right h