CHAPTER TWO
THE MAN WITH NERVE
At about ten o'clock of the Fourth of July a rider topped the summit ofthe last swell of land, and loped his animal down into the singlestreet of Pereza. The buildings on either side were flat-roofed andcoated with plaster. Over the sidewalks extended wooden awnings,beneath which opened very wide doors into the coolness of saloons.Each of these places ran a bar, and also games of roulette, faro,craps, and stud poker. Even this early in the morning every game waspatronised.
The day was already hot with the dry, breathless, but exhilarating,heat of the desert. A throng of men idling at the edge of thesidewalks, jostling up and down their centre, or eddying into theplaces of amusement, acknowledged the power of summer by looseningtheir collars, carrying their coats on their arms. They were as yetbusily engaged in recognising acquaintances. Later they would drinkfreely and gamble, and perhaps fight. Toward all but those whom theyrecognised they preserved an attitude of potential suspicion, for herewere gathered the "bad men" of the border countries. A certainjealousy or touchy egotism lest the other man be considered quicker onthe trigger, bolder, more aggressive than himself, kept each strung totension. An occasional shot attracted little notice. Men in thecow-countries shoot as casually as we strike matches, and some subtleinstinct told them that the reports were harmless.
As the rider entered the one street, however, a more definite cause ofexcitement drew the loose population toward the centre of the road.Immediately their mass blotted out what had interested them. Curiosityattracted the saunterers; then in turn the frequenters of the bars andgambling games. In a very few moments the barkeepers, gamblers, andlook-out men, held aloof only by the necessities of their calling,alone of all the population of Pereza were not included in thenewly-formed ring.
The stranger pushed his horse resolutely to the outer edge of the crowdwhere, from his point of vantage, he could easily overlook their heads.He was a quiet-appearing young fellow, rather neatly dressed in theborder costume, rode a "centre fire," or single-cinch, saddle, and woreno chaps. He was what is known as a "two-gun man": that is to say, hewore a heavy Colt's revolver on either hip. The fact that the lowerends of his holsters were tied down, in order to facilitate the easywithdrawal of the revolvers, seemed to indicate that he expected to usethem. He had furthermore a quiet grey eye, with the glint of steelthat bore out the inference of the tied holsters.
The newcomer dropped his reins on his pony's neck, eased himself to anattitude of attention, and looked down gravely on what was takingplace. He saw over the heads of the bystanders a tall, muscular,wild-eyed man, hatless, his hair rumpled into staring confusion, hisright sleeve rolled to his shoulder, a wicked-looking nine-inch knifein his hand, and a red bandana handkerchief hanging by one corner fromhis teeth.
"What's biting the locoed stranger?" the young man inquired of hisneighbour.
The other frowned at him darkly.
"Dare's anyone to take the other end of that handkerchief in his teeth,and fight it out without letting go."
"Nice joyful proposition," commented the young man.
He settled himself to closer attention. The wild-eyed man was talkingrapidly. What he said cannot be printed here. Mainly was itderogatory of the southern countries. Shortly it became boastful ofthe northern, and then of the man who uttered it.
He swaggered up and down, becoming always the more insolent as hischallenge remained untaken.
"Why don't you take him up?" inquired the young man, after a moment.
"Not me!" negatived the other vigorously. "I'll go yore little oldgunfight to a finish, but I don't want any cold steel in mine. Ugh! itgives me the shivers. It's a reg'lar Mexican trick! With a gun it'sdown and out, but this knife work is too slow and searchin'."
The newcomer said nothing, but fixed his eye again on the raging manwith the knife.
"Don't you reckon he's bluffing?" he inquired.
"Not any!" denied the other with emphasis. "He's jest drunk enough tobe crazy mad."
The newcomer shrugged his shoulders and cast his glance searchinglyover the fringe of the crowd. It rested on a Mexican.
"Hi, Tony! come here," he called.
The Mexican approached, flashing his white teeth.
"Here," said the stranger, "lend me your knife a minute."
The Mexican, anticipating sport of his own peculiar kind, obeyed withalacrity.
"You fellows make me tired," observed the stranger, dismounting. "He'sgot the whole townful of you bluffed to a standstill. Damn if I don'ttry his little game."
He hung his coat on his saddle, shouldered his way through the press,which parted for him readily, and picked up the other corner of thehandkerchief.
"Now, you mangy son of a gun," said he.
Arizona Nights Page 18
