of her. You--cursed _Tejano_
dog!" He drove a spur at his enemy's side, missed, and it became
entangled in the rags.

The Delaware, blind with fury, smashed his knee into the soft abdomen
and snarled at the answering gasp of pain. "Remember th' prisoners? Near
Valencia--Ernest died in the--night. You cut off his ears--and threw his
body in a--ditch!" He got the throat hold again in spite of nails and
teeth, blows and spurs. "McAllister was shot because he--could not walk.
You stole his clothes--cut off his ears and left--his body at th' side
of th'--road for the wolves!" He felt the spurs graze his leg and he
threw it across the body of the Mexican. "Golpin was shot--other side of
Dead Man's Lake. You took--_his_ ears _too_!" He hauled and tugged and
managed to roll his enemy onto his other leg. "On th' Dead Man's
Journey--Griffin's brains were knocked out with a--gun butt. _His_ ears
were cut off, _too_!" Hooking his feet together he clamped his powerful
thighs in a viselike grip on his enemy. "Gates died in a wagon near--El
Paso, of starvation, sickness--an' fright. You got _his_--ears!"

"As--I'll get--_yours_!" hoarsely moaned Salezar, again missing with the
spurs. "The senorita will be happy--in Armijo's arms. After that--the
soldiers--can have her!"

The Delaware loosened his leg grip, jerked them up toward the captain's
stomach as he hauled his victim down toward them, and clamped them tight
again over the soft stomach.

"Yore lies stick--in yore throat--Salezar!" he panted. "An' those
murders cry--to heaven; but you'll only--hear th' echoes ringin' through
hell--for all eternity. _You_ called th' roll of th' livin'--on that
damnable march; _I_'m--callin' th' roll of th' _dead_! Yore name comes
last! There's many a Texan would give his--chance of heaven to change
places--with me, _now_!" He raised his head in the darkness. "Oh,
Ernest, old pardner; I'm payin' yore debt, _in full_!"

The spurs stabbed in vain, for the Delaware was now well above their
flaying range; the nails scoring his face were growing feeble. He
shifted the leg hold again and managed to imprison one of Salezar's arms
in their grip. Lifting himself from the hips, he released the throat
hold and grabbed the Mexican's other arm, thrust it under him and fell
back on it as his two hands, free now to work their worst, leaped back
under the swarthy chin. The relentless thumbs pressed up and in.

The Blackfoot on guard at the end of the driveway