Trooper Tales — page 80: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

72 The Wooing of Benito. And at that moment the heart of Benito, the poor Porto Rican, was almost broken. It must be remembered that Benito, who lived in the poorest and shabbiest of all the poverty shacks in Cori- zel, had loved Marie long and.dearly. And on Sundays in the plaza, the little dark-eyed maiden had often smiled sweetly upon him. Now Benito never told Marie that he loved her, yet all the while he was starving and slaving so that some day he might have money enough to tell her without shame. Then it was that Toreador, the game one, the fanciest of fighting cocks, whom Benito had reared from a tiny chick, met the mighty Morro in the cock-pit, and laid him low. And many were the silver pesos which Toreador won for Benito that day. But the game one could never be pitted again, for the gaffs of the mighty Morro had darkened the spark in both his eyes. Let it be known, too, that Benito, no longer poor after the battle, had crept up the trail toward Marie’s shack in the shadow of the great white cliffs. A big bag of silver pesos was in his hand. Benito was sad because the splen- did Toreador, whom he loved next to Marie, must live always in darkness after that day. Had not Toreador given his eyes that he might have Marie? But Benito thought also, as he crept up the trail, of the little dark- . eyed maiden, and of joys sweet and lasting. Slowly, very slowly, Benito crawled down once more. He had seen Marie’s laughing eyes as the big cavalryman kissed her lips in the moonlight. His brain conceived no EComichoo S (S@)