throwing the stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang
out angrily and quivered. "I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we
mostly poisons coyotes up my way," he added. Then a thought struck
him. "Yu must be that dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?"

A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.

"Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever. I
don't want yore Carmencita. I only called to say hulloo," responded
Hopalong, his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him
from his vivid recollection of the woman who had opened the door.

"Yah!" snarled Manuel. "You wants to poison my little bird. You with
your fair hair and your cursed swagger!"

The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from the
Mexican's nose. "Yu wants to ride easy, hombre. I ain't no angel, but
I don't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore
head that she wants to be poisoned. Why, she near stuck a knife in
me!" he lied.

The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than
that to wipe out the insult of the blow. The horse became restless,
and when Hopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.

"Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' `dobe hut by th'