You know that to kill that
blue-eyed one is all there is left to do. Me, I could have put him out
of the way before now, for there are many knives ready to do me the
service. Kill him I shall, Senor; but it shall be in fight; and if the
senorita sees--good. She shall know then that at least it is not a
coward or a weakling who loves her. Do you ask why--"
Dade's hands went out, dismissing the question. "No, I don't ask another
blamed thing. Go ahead and fight. Fight to kill, if that's the only
thing that will satisfy you. You two aren't the first to lock horns over
a woman. Jack seems just as keen for it as you are, so I don't reckon
there's any stopping either one of you. But it does seem a pity!"
"Why does it seem a pity?" Jose's tone was insistent.
"It seems a pity," Dade explained doggedly, "to see two fine fellows
like you and Jack trying to kill each other for a girl--that isn't worth
the life of either one of you!"
In two steps Jose confronted him, his hand lifted to strike. Dade,
looking up at him, flicked the ashes from his cigarette with his
forefinger, but that was the only move he made. Jose's hand trembled and
came down harmlessly by his side.
"I was mistaken," he said, smiling queerly. "You have never loved any
woman, Senor; and I think the sadness I have seen in your eyes is for
yourself, that life has cheated you so. If you had known love, you could
never have said that.
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