Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

290 8 OF Tigre,” he said solemnly, “is very weary. He wishes to be alone and sleep.” “ Bah!” cried the girl with sudden fury. “El Tigre has slept for many days; his honor has slept with him.”’ His upper lip writhed back from his teeth, and his hand shot across to the hilt of his knife. At that a glint of terror came in the eyes of the girl, but she persisted with a perverse delight, liké one who baits a bull. But here was one who would not charge blindly. “The claws of El Tigre are bare,” she went on, “but they are dull. The tiger is old; his claws are blunt; his teeth have fallen out; he is fat and slow; very soon little boys will bait him in the streets and kick his fat ribs and laugh to see him grunt. And El Tigre will dare not bite, but lick their hands for crusts of bread. It is true!” Half the length of the knife-blade flashed and disappeared again in the sheath, a mo- tion as swift as a winking of light. ” “Does El Tigre still show his teeth?” went on the girl, though she retreated half a pace, ready to flee like the wind jor the door. ‘‘I do not feat him. There has been a hand on my shoulder that has three times the.strength of El Tigre’s paw. I felt that hand. ‘Why should I fear El Tigre’s? The hand which was on my shoulder was the hand which dragged El] Tigre out of the river—” ‘Dolores has spoken too much,” said El Tigre, and turned upon her with eyes more deadly than his voice. She said: ‘“‘ The hand drew El Tigre out of the river and threw him on the bank like a drowned cat to dry his fur. And when El Tigre could stand again he sneaked on -his white father and bit the hand that had saved him, It is true!” “Tt is true,” repeated El Tigre, and gave no sign of his torture. “ And now,” said the girl, ‘‘ Onate is set- ting a trap for El Tigre. It may be that he will catch him and whip him and let him go—tamed.”’ “Ah,” murmured El Tigre. ‘Your master and mine,”’ said the girl; ‘“‘ the master of El Tigre and his daughter.” The Indian drew himself a. little more erect, if that were possible. THE ARGOSY, “El Tigre has no daughter,” he said calmly. ‘‘ He dreamed that he had a daugh- ter named Dolores. Now El Tigre is awake.” “It is a lie,” said Dolores. “ El Tigre is not awake. to catch him. -A sleepy tiger fat with too much eating; the boys of the town will bait him.” She stepped a little closer, fearless, though she saw the death in the eyes of the Yaqui. ‘“Why do you wait, El Tigre?” Onate has seen you stalk him with silent feet. He is a fool, but he knows. His eye is on you. Why do you wait? If you wish to find him when he sleeps I will open his door to-night. But there is little time.” “Tt would have killed him three times in three days,” said the Yaqui calmly, ‘“ but every time, if I had struck, his blood would have fallen on Dolores.” She winced as if under the whip, and her breath came sharply, with a sort of stifling sob. ‘““And now,” she said, “it is too late. You may kill Onate, but the white father shall die.” For the first time he was roused past his self-restraint. | * It is a lie,” he said; ‘ the father of lies.”’ ‘It is true,” she answered; ‘“‘I have heard Onate talk with Garcia. To-morrow Garcia will raise a crowd. A crowd of Mexicans to take the jail and carry off the white father to the hills.. There they will pile up mes- quite wood and burn him.”’ The last glow of the sunset struck through the window across the face of El Tigre and made it terrible. It gleamed on the sweat of his forehead. ‘“ But why do—you—tell El Tigre?” she said scornfully. ‘‘ He loves the Mexicans. They have burned his village. They killed his son with fire. They butchered his brother with knives. They cut the throat of his father. But El Tigre has forgotten. He eats the food from the hand of a Mexi- can. Hiseteeth are so dull that if he bit that hand he would not break the skin. He bl crouches before a master—he—E] Tigre!” ‘“ Once he was wild and strong. The dark was like the day to El Tigre. His coming made no sound. It was like the plunge of the eagle through the air with wings closed. COPMICLOOOKS He sleeps and waits for Onate - (E@)