en by her narrow escape as he was himself, she
straightway called him brute and savage again, and sentimentally pitied
the bull because he lay upon his back with his front feet in the air,
and because the gash on his head was bleeding.

Jack's rage passed as quickly as it came; but it left him stubborn under
her recriminations.

"You are very soft-hearted, all of a sudden, senorita," he said, with a
fairly well-defined sneer, when he could bear no more. "You won't enjoy
the bull-fighting, then, to-morrow--for all you have been looking
forward to it so anxiously, and have robbed yourself of ribbons to
decorate the darts. It's not half so brutal to kill a bull that tries to
kill you, as it is to fill it with flag-trimmed arrows for fun, and only
put it out of its misery when you're tired of seeing it suffer! This
bull came near killing you! That's why I'm going to kill it."

"You are not! Santa Maria, what a savage beast you are! Let him go
instantly! Let him go, I say!"

If she had been on the ground, she would have stamped her foot. As it
was, she shook an adorably tiny fist at Jack, and blinked her long
lashes upon the tears of real, sincere anger that stood in her black
eyes, and gritted her teeth at him; for the senorita had a temper quite
as hot as Jack's, when it was roused, and all her life she had been
given her own way in everything.

"Let him go this moment, or I shall never speak to you again!" she
threatened rashly.

For answer, Jack walked deliberately past her to where Surry stood with
his feet braced still against the pull of the riata and his neck arched
knowingly, while he rolled the little wheel in the bit with his tongue.
Jack made himself a cigarette, lay down in the shade of his horse, and
smoked just as calmly as though his heart was not thumping so that he
could hear it quite plainly. She had gone the wrong way about making him
yield; threats had always acted like a goad upon Jack's anger, just as
they do upon most of us.

Teresita looked at him in silence for a minute. And Jack, his head upon
his arm in a position that would give him a fair view of her from the
brim of his sombrero while he seemed to be taking no notice of her,
wondered how soon she would change her mood to coaxing, and so melt that
lump of obstinacy in his throat that would not let him so much as answer
her vixenish upbraidings. A very little coaxing would have freed the
bull then, and he would have kissed the red mouth t