only a coward, or he wouldn't need a knife in fighting with a man
half his size."

"Better throw away your knife, my good Gato," purred Don Luis,
"or Senor Reade will shoot you."

"I won't," Tom retorted. "I couldn't, anyway. I am not armed.
I never was enough afraid of any one to carry weapons. But let
Gato go on with his knife. If he fails, then I shall hit him until
my arm aches."

"Stop, Senor Reade! I command it!" cried Don Luis, imperiously.
"And you, Gato, throw down your knife. I will not have fighting
here among men who must be friends."

But Gato, after hearing himself described as a coward, saw only
red before his eyes. He must have this Gringo's life, and that
quickly. Afterwards he would explain and seek Don Luis's pardon.

"If you prefer, Gato, we will shake hands and forget this," suggested
Tom Reade.

"Ah, so you are afraid?" sneered the mine manager.

"Try me and see, if you prefer that," Tom retorted.

With a snarl Gato circled closer. Don Luis Montez snatched from
one of his pockets a silver-mounted revolver, but Hazelton caught
the flash and in the next instant he had wrenched the pistol away
from the mine owner.