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"
Señor
Americano
!
"
exclaimed
the
half-drunken
horse-hunter
,
cutting
short
the
explanation
,
"
why
waste
words
upon
that
?
Carrambo
!
I
know
well
enough
for
what
you
've
come
.
You
want
me
to
wipe
out
that
devilish
Irlandes
!
"
"
Well
!
"
"
Well
;
I
promised
you
I
would
do
it
,
for
five
hundred
pesos
--
at
the
proper
time
and
opportunity
.
I
will
.
Miguel
Diaz
never
played
false
to
his
promise
.
But
the
time
's
not
come
,
ñor
capitan
;
nor
yet
the
opportunity
,
Carajo
!
To
kill
a
man
outright
requires
skill
.
It
ca
n't
be
done
--
even
on
the
prairies
--
without
danger
of
detection
;
and
if
detected
,
ha
!
what
chance
for
me
?
You
forget
,
ñor
capitan
,
that
I
'm
a
Mexican
.
If
I
were
of
your
people
,
I
might
slay
Don
Mauricio
;
and
get
clear
on
the
score
of
its
being
a
quarrel
.
Maldita
!
With
us
Mexicans
it
is
different
.
If
we
stick
our
macheté
into
a
man
so
as
to
let
out
his
life
's
blood
,
it
is
called
murder
;
and
you
Americanos
,
with
your
stupid
juries
of
twelve
honest
men
,
would
pronounce
it
so
:
ay
,
and
hang
a
poor
fellow
for
it
.
Chingaro
!
I
ca
n't
risk
that
.
I
hate
the
Irlandes
as
much
as
you
;
but
I
'm
not
going
to
chop
off
my
nose
to
spite
my
own
face
.
I
must
wait
for
the
time
,
and
the
chance
--
carrai
,
the
time
and
the
chance
.
"
"
Both
are
come
!
"
exclaimed
the
tempter
,
bending
earnestly
towards
the
bravo
.
"
You
said
you
could
easily
do
it
,
if
there
was
any
Indian
trouble
going
on
?
"
"
Of
course
I
said
so
.
If
there
was
that
--
"
"
You
have
not
heard
the
news
,
then
?
"
"
What
news
?
"
"
That
the
Comanches
are
starting
on
the
war
trail
.
"
"
Carajo
!
"
exclaimed
El
Coyote
,
springing
up
from
his
couch
of
reeds
,
and
exhibiting
all
the
activity
of
his
namesake
,
when
roused
by
the
scent
of
prey
