ched him as jealously
as it was in his nature to do, and the eyes of jealousy are keen indeed;
and he had seen Jose make many throws, and never a miss. Which, if you
know anything of rope-work, was a remarkable record for any man. So
there was a good chance of Jose winning that fight. In his heart Dade
knew it, even if his lips never would admit it.

Well, supposing Jose was beaten; suppose Jack won! What then? Dade blew
a mouthful of smoke towards the camp-fire, deserted except for himself,
while his vaqueros disported themselves with their neighbors, and shook
his head. He had a little imagination; perhaps he had more than most men
of his type. He could see a glorious row, if Jose were beaten. It would,
on the whole, be more disastrous than if he won.

"And she's just fickle-minded enough to turn up her nose at Jack if he
got beat," Dade grumbled, thinking of a certain senorita. "And if he
don't, the whole bunch will pile onto us. Looks to me like a worse
combination than that Vigilance row, for Jack. If he wins, he gets
knifed; if he don't, he gets hell. And me the only one to back him up!
I'll wish I was about forty men seven foot high and armed with--"

"Pardon, Senor. The senor has of course heard the news?" Jose came out
of the shadows and stood with the firelight dancing on his face and
picking out the glittery places on his jacket, where was the braid. "I
have a letter from Don Andres. Would the senor care to read it? No? The
senor is welcome to read. I have no wish to keep anything hidden which
concerns this matter. I have brought the letter, and I want to say
that the wishes of my friend, Don Andres, shall be granted. Except," he
added, coming closer, "that I shall fight to the death. I wish the Senor
Allen to understand this, though it must he held a secret between us
three. An accident it must appear to those who watch, because the duelo
will be proclaimed a sport; but to the death I will fight, and I trust
that the Senor Allen will fight as I fight. Does the senor understand?"

"Yes, but I can't promise anything for Jack." Dade studied Jose quietly
through the smoke of his cigarette. "Jack will fight to please himself,
and nobody can tell how that will be, except that it won't be tricky. He
may want to kill you, and he may not. I don't know. If he does, he'll
try his damnedest, you can bank on that."

"But you, Senor--do you not see that to fight for a prize merely is to
belittle--" Jose waved a hand e