"What! Who am I?" Red Cedar exclaimed, bounding with wrath. "Did you not recognise me, or are you having a game with me?"
"I never have a game with anyone," Andrés replied, imperturbably: "but I warn you that, although I fancy I recognise your voice, I shall not open till you mention your name. The night is too far advanced for me to risk receiving a suspicious person into my house."
"I will break the door down."
"Try it," the gambusino shouted boldly, "and by our Lady of Pilar I will send a bullet through your head."
At this threat the squatter rushed against the door in incredible fury, with the evident intention of breaking it in; but, contrary to his expectations, though it creaked and groaned on its hinges, it did not give way. Andrés Garote had indulged in a line of reasoning which was far from being illogical, and revealed a profound knowledge of the human heart. He had said to himself, that, as he must face Red Cedar's anger, it would be better to let it reach its paroxysm at once so as to have only the decreasing period to endure. He smiled at the American's sterile attempts, then, and repeated his request.
"Well, then," the other said, furiously, "I am Red Cedar. Do you recognise me now, you devil's own Gachupino?"
"Of course; I see that I can open without danger to your Excellency."
And the gambusino hurriedly drew back the bolts.
Red Cedar rushed into the room with a yell of fury, but Andrés had put out the light. The squatter stopped, surprised by the gloom which prevented him distinguishing any object.
"Hallo!" he said. "What is the meaning of this darkness? I can see nothing."