and keen,
but those guns that could shoot six times with one loading--Gossip
preferred to dwell greedily upon the details of the quarrel between the
young Don Jose and his gringo rival.

There were whispers also of a quarrel between the senorita and her
gringo lover, and it was said that the young senorita prayed last night
that Jose would win. But there were other whispers than that: One, that
the maid of the senorita had been seen to give a rose and a written
message into the hands of the Senor Allen, not an hour ago; and had gone
singing to her mistress again, and smiling while she sang. Truly, that
did not look as if the senorita had prayed for Jose! The Senor Allen had
kept the rose. Look you! It was a token, and he would doubtless wear it
upon his breast in the fight, where he hoped later to wear the medalla
oro--but where the hands would be folded instead while the padres said
mass for him; if indeed mass could be said over a dead gringo! There was
laughter to follow that conceit. And so they talked, and made the
tedious time of waiting seem shorter than it was.

Late comers looked for seats, found none, and were forced to content
themselves with such perches as neighboring trees and the roofs of the
outbuildings might afford. Peons who had early scrambled to the insecure
vantage-point of the nearest stable roof, were hustled off to make room
for a group of Salinas caballeros who arrived late. This was merely the
bull-fighting coming now; but bull-fighting never palls, even though
bigger things are yet in store. For there is always the chance that a
horse may be gored to death--even that a man may die horribly. Such
things have been and may be again; so the tardy ones climbed and
scurried and attained breathlessness and a final resting-place together.

Came a season of frenzied yelling, breathless moments of suspense, and
stamping that threatened disaster to the seats. Two bulls in succession
had been let into the corral, bellowed under the shower of be-ribboned
barbs and went down, fighting valiantly to the last.

Blood-lusting, the great crowd screamed importunities for more. "Bring
out the bear!" was their demand. "Let us see that she-bear fight the big
bull which has been reserved for the combat!"

Now, this was ticklish work for the Picardo vaqueros who were
stage-managing the sport. From the top of the corral above the
bear-cage they made shift to slide the oaken gate built across an
opening into the a