Valencia smiled while he smoked.
Presently Jose was listening unwillingly to Manuel's spite-tinged
version of the talk at the San Vincente camp. "The vaqueros are making a
mock of thy bravery and thy skill!" Manuel declared, with more passion
than truth. "They would see thee beaten, in fight as well as in love--"
The stiffening of Jose's whole figure stopped Manuel short but not
dissatisfied, for he saw there was no need that he should speak a single
word more upon the subject.
"They shall see him try, unless he is a coward." The voice of Jose was
muffled by the rage that filled him.
So it came to pass that Manuel saddled his best mustang within an hour
and rode away to the north. And when Valencia strolled artlessly to the
Pacheco fire and asked for him, Jose hesitated perceptibly before he
replied that Manuel had gone home with a message to the foreman there.
Valencia grinned his widest when he heard that, and over two cigarettes
he pondered the matter. Being a shrewd young man with an instinct for
nosing out mysteries, he flung all uncertainty away with the stub of his
second cigarette and sought Dade.
He found him standing alone beside a deep, still pool, staring at the
shadows and the moon-painted picture in the middle, and looking as if
his thoughts were gone on far journeys. Valencia was too full of his
news to heed the air of absolute detachment that surrounded Dade.
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